


A Hare Chases A Magpie

by TheGirlInTheBlueShirt



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 90s pop culture references, Angst, Canon Compliant, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Found Families, Platonic Relationships, Rating is subject to change later on, Romance, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), This story is going to be a long one, a metric ton of British slang, actual this is only canon compliant to an extent, based on how much I have planned, there is a severe lack of george weasley content so here is some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlInTheBlueShirt/pseuds/TheGirlInTheBlueShirt
Summary: Olivia McLaren enjoyed plants and potions more than the average witch. It was both a blessing and a curse.It was a blessing for two fox-faced, mischievous twins and unsurprisingly, this was a curse for her.
Relationships: George Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 40





	1. Livy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The McLaren's are an interesting family to say the least

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for clicking on my fic and giving it a read. This story is just a fun idea that I’ve had in my head for around 6 years or so. Now that I’m a student, I feel like I can actually make the idea into something good so I hope you enjoy!

It was May 2nd when the double glazing rattled as the weathered tawny owl flew straight into it. The creature almost went unnoticed by the father and daughter in their small living room that morning. The gaudy blue glittery wrapping paper and the quiet, classic rock ballad drifting from the radio was like the calm before the storm for Olivia McLaren. She had been worried that her eleventh birthday would be like any other day, but with a few extra hours at the allotment. However, lovely and calm days would soon be few and far between for the young girl. Stanley, her father, quickly jumped up from the throw pillow he had been perched on and dashed to slide open the flat window.

With a rough head shake and a ruffle of feathers, the disgruntled owl thrust the browning letter in its beak at the older man. Stanley had been so wrapped up in making sure Olivia liked the new gardening tools and sunflower patterned gardening gloves he had gotten her that he forgot about the urgent letter that was on its way. 

Mr McLaren had known of magic for years thanks to his late wife, Mary’s, own magical abilities. In all honesty, he had been absolutely thrilled when his little girl turned her messy brown hair bright blue when she was four years old. His baby was magical, just like her mother. She was terrific in his eyes regardless, but now she would be able “to make shit float and can fix my glasses when I sit on them!”, these being the exact words he had called out to Mary.

“Livy, Livy! It’s the Hogwarts postman! It’s the letter! The letter. Today’s the big day, love! Come on, up you get, lazybones.” Stanley was very much a big supporter of Olivia’s abilities and the entirety of the new world that came with them. This excitement had definitely carried over to Olivia as she hastily stumbled out of the under-construction pillow fort and rushed to her father, quickly snatching the wax sealed letter in shaky, pale fingers.

“Sod the fort, dad. I need you to open it. I can’t. I’m too shaky. Dad! Dad! Hurry up!” Olivia was bouncing on the balls of her feet, waving the letter around in front of her father. She felt so excited that she could vomit right there on the living room rug, not caring if she would have to end up sawdusting the muck as she did in the pub downstairs. To some, her reaction may have seemed somewhat lacking, given that she had been waiting giddily for this day for as long as she could remember. She just did not know what to do with herself. Should she start packing? Should she get a cat or a toad or an owl? What house would she be in? All these fantastical questions were whizzing around underneath her messy bedhead when her dad quickly cut the deep burgundy wax seal. The two stared intently at the now open and on display letter resting on the scratched coffee table.

Dear Miss McLaren,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Olivia immediately leapt up from the floor and ran up to the owl that was still perched at the window; he was expecting an extra treat for that nasty window incident. The young witch did not have any food to treat the feathered postman to, but she could offer him some water. She was ready to get a bus to a pet shop just to get the animal some food because of how grateful she was for the delivery, but she had bigger things to think about. She desperately needed to know which house she would be in.

“Livy! You need to see this equipment list. You need a cauldron, that’s very up your alley, potions and that. Oh, you’re going to get a wand! Mental, my little Livy finally getting her wand!” The lanky man looked as if he was experiencing about four emotions at once. His late wife had disclosed essentially every necessary detail about the Wizarding world when they got married; it was a legal requirement after all. When Olivia was born, the information dump had occurred once again because it was likely that the little girl would be magical. Ever since then, Stanley had kept the world of wizards and witches alive for Olivia in every way he could. He even learned cheesy ‘muggle’ magic tricks from a little kit he found in a joke shop in central London. Her personal favourite was when he made a coin appear from behind her ear because she got to keep the coin; usually, it was of the white chocolate variety.

“Dad, can I get a cat as my pet? I know that’s like the last thing I’ll be getting but a cat, come on. Please!” The request had barrelled out of Olivia’s mouth before she could even appropriately respond to her father. 

She knew a little bit about potions and the like from her mother, and she was greatly looking forward to that subject and Herbology. But the idea of the pet at school had always been a sticking point for her, her own little companion. While at muggle school, she did not make many lasting friendships, she had some girls that she sat with during breaks and lunchtime, but even then they still called her odd just like everyone else. She was never a sad child, though, in fact, she was quite the opposite. Her own company and quiet time was something she treasured because that usually meant she was out at the allotment. The little patch of dirt, wildflowers and the occasional in-season vegetable was a little slice of heaven that she had cultivated with her mother before she passed. 

She had heard stories about the greenhouses at Hogwarts about a hundred times. She never tired of imagining the massive glass walls, the weird and wonderful plants she was bursting to meet and the surprisingly active Herbology club that her mother had been president of for a few years. Olivia saw Hogwarts as a place where she would have every opportunity to further herself for herself; she would meet the other “odd” kids, they would become friends; she would learn gardening related magic that she could keep in her back pocket for when she was seventeen and could use magic outside of school. Olivia McLaren would be able to express who she truly was at that castle. She continued to fizz over with excitement, running into her father’s waiting arms as little tears began to form in the corners of her green eyes.

“Love, come on now, no tears today. I’ll go put the kettle on, and we can make a plan of action for getting all your stuff, yeah?” Stanley himself was fighting back his own tears and the urge to faint due to the overwhelming emotion in their flat’s living room. Olivia responded with a sniffle and a quick nod; she needed her traditional birthday hot chocolate to ground her racing mind. She could not help but think of her mother at that moment; it was likely that her father was the same. 

Mary Sawyer-McLaren was a bright young witch during her time at Hogwarts from 1969 to 1977. Mary had been sorted into Ravenclaw and upheld the reputation of the house of wisdom with her extracurricular activities. Olivia adored the toad choir stories she had heard over the years in the back room of the little music shop on Diagon Alley. Music and gardening were Mary’s passions as they were easily enjoyed in both the magical world and the muggle world. Her old vinyl’s and hulking record player remained on the living room sideboard and provided the musical accompaniment to Stanley and Olivia’s Saturday night Indian takeaway. Her passing when Olivia was just six years old had been a shock, she had been there and gone in what seemed like a flash. However, the memory of the chipper witch kept her family going on with their lives. After all, she would have been shouting the odds at them for being down in the dumps all day.

*

Stanley had created several birthday traditions for his daughter over the years. The fact that he had to man the family’s pub below their flat most evenings, thus leaving Olivia upstairs by herself, troubled him. His little girl deserved to have her special day, and oh, what a special day this birthday had been.

In addition to the copious amounts of Cadbury’s hot chocolate throughout the morning, Olivia’s favourite birthday treat was ‘breakfast for dinner’. Bacon was sizzling away in a large pan, toast was perfectly golden and smothered in homemade raspberry jam, the world was at rights. Stanley had even dug out an old table cloth from the back room of the pub and presented the fried dinner to his daughter in an ever so sophisticated manner.

“The eggs are on their way to you, miss.” Stanley said in an overly posh voice. His commitment to the fancy butler bit was admirable, causing Olivia to snort at her silly father.

“Thank you, good sir. Might I request some orange juice to accompany this lovely spread.” Olivia replied in an equally as silly and pompous way. 

“But of course. How could I have forgotten something so import-“ The smoke alarm on the kitchen ceiling rang out in a piercing shriek. Olivia quickly leapt to the hob, fanning away the smoke and shutting off the gas. “Aw shit, the eggs. Darling, I’m so sorry!” 

“I’d rather the house didn’t burn down so it’s okay, dad.” Olivia sniggered. The two continued to fan away the pale smoke, Stanley making quick work of shoving the small window in the kitchen open. “Also, swear word.” 

“I get a free pass on that one.” Stanley shushed his daughter and motioned for them to sit down at the table once again. The food was beginning to get cold, after all. Conversation flowed smoothly between the pair as ‘Eternal Flame’ by The Bangles drifted from the radio. They chatted at length about Olivia’s Hogwarts letter and little about anything else. The young witch could not help but grin into her food as her father recounted stories of his own experiences in the magical world. Stanley had only properly visited Diagon Alley, the wizard shopping hub of London, a handful of times in his life. He and his late wife had a couple of date nights in The Leaky Cauldron but the bitter glances that Stanley received cut those plans short. The music shop in which Mary had worked was the extent of his good knowledge of the area as he had always made a point to pick up his wife after her shift. 

However, the dirty looks and venomous mutters from those who looked like aristocracy had slowly, but surely, become hard to ignore for Stanley. He feared for how Olivia would be treated but he was not going to rain on her parade as he watched her happily rambling about dragon hide gloves. 

“Right, before you get started, we should write down a little plan for when we’re going on the supply run.” Stanley stated. He grabbed an old electricity bill envelope and wrote ‘Livy’s school stuff’ at the top. “What day would you like to go? Probably better to do it in August so it’s closer to you heading off but it’s totally up to you, Livy.”

“No, I think that sounds good, makes the most sense. Can we do it on a weekend, a Saturday? I know the pub’ll be busy but if we go early then it should be okay, right?” Olivia was bouncing slightly in her chair as she spoke. She would be off to Diagon Alley the next morning if she could, but she knew getting everything a bit later on would stop her from getting burnt out. It would keep the excitement fresh and hopefully quell any potential anxiety.

“Mrs Figg might be peeved if she gets her weekly sherry a bit late but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Just for you, though. How about August 12th, that’s a Saturday I’m pretty sure?” Stanley ruffled Olivia’s dark brown hair and shot her a warm grin. Inside, however, he was slightly concerned about the pub patrons if their local opened a bit later than normal. Olivia could not care less about some grumpy old men and women when she had a day, a date and a time for her trip to Diagon Alley. She was already piecing together stories and vague memories she had to paint a full picture of what the street would be like. The pet shop was the only shopfront that was clear in her memory, she had loved going to look at all of the gorgeous owls when she was little. 

Stanley had made his way downstairs to open The Black Hare for the evening and Olivia saw this as the perfect time to properly release all of her excitement. Her mother’s Genesis record was blasting throughout the living room as Olivia danced and slid across the floor in her orange fluffy socks. She imagined that those in the pub below her could hear her stomping dance moves but paying them little mind, she continued. The song ‘Invisible Touch’ drifted from the record player as the young girl collapsed into the lopsided pillow fort. The song was one of the family favourites as her mother had played it nearly every day without fail. Melodic drumming and Phil Collins brought Olivia an odd sense of calm, slowing her racing mind with the ghost of her mother’s horrendous singing. 

Her slightly buck-toothed grin met her in the reflection through the window as she looked out to the fuzzy night sky over London. May 2nd was always a funny day, whether it be good or bad. 

Olivia was very much looking forward to the rest of these days she would see as a witch.

*

It had been a month since Olivia’s eleventh birthday, and the day her place in the world of magic was solidified. She had climbed into her lumpy single bed that night still buzzing with energy from reading over her book list, and she was adamant that she would clean the magical book shop out of herbology texts or die trying. The post-acceptance letter dopamine kick had led to her practising how she would introduce herself to her fellow housemates in the mirror. She was going to be cool, she decided, so she practised to come off as confident and lovely as her quieter nature would allow. 

Once again, the young witch was inside her turquoise duvet cocoon thinking about the other children who would be starting their academic journey with her. Would it be like muggle school? With the class clowns, bullies and quiet kids or would the magic pulsing through their veins mean they were wired differently. As long as people were still up for making school fun and having a laugh every now and then, she was happy. She just wanted to have at least one friend, a mate to actually enjoy having as company and vice versa. She decided that a ‘partner in crime’ was potentially asking too much of the universe, but that did not mean she could not still hold out hope. 

“Mum? Hi, we haven’t talked in a little bit, but you know I’ve been busy becoming an adult and all that fun business. I’m just checking in so you know I’m doing good. The spring veg and herbs were fab in that soup you used to make, even dad could get it right on the third try!” The girl paused her whispers as if she was listening to the reply that was not there. Olivia tried not to let the lingering silence of her small bedroom bother her happy state of mind, but of course, it did.

“I’m worried no one’s going to talk to me unless it’s for homework help like at normal school. Dad told me I’m being silly and that I’m a fab little gem, but I can’t help but not feel all that ‘gem-y’ lately. Oh god and he wants me to get into quidditch, that’d make sure I wouldn’t get any mates because I’d lose the team every game! His own daughter and he barely knows her, can you believe it?” She whisper-yelled the berating of her father, but she knew he had been at least half-kidding about her joining her house’s quidditch team. 

The one-sided moonlight chat continued as they often did, Olivia’s voice became a mumble as her eyelids dropped and sleep claimed her. She dreamed of watching a house quidditch game that night. Everyone in the stands roaring and hollering a variety of names that she assumed were the players. Where her brain pulled all these names from was lost on the young witch. Olivia noticed that she had a blue and grey scarf wrapped around her; Ravenclaw, just like her mum. The same deep blue shade whizzed by her line of sight as a girl masterfully flew across the pitch, launching a ball through a hoop and punching her fist in the air in victory. There was only one part of this otherwise lovely dream that caught Olivia off guard. A boy was waving at her from the field once his team had won. She could not for the life of her remember what his face looked like, but he was tall, very tall. He grinned brightly, waved his lanky arms at her and then wandered off with his teammates clapping him on the back. He had one of those strange bats in his hand too. 

“A beater, that was the name for those players, wasn’t it? Bit intense, but it was still a boy waving at me so…” Olivia pondered where the dream had crawled out of her subconscious over her breakfast, but the mystery beater boy soon became a fleeting thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/11/20 
> 
> Hi again. I’ve become too aware at the number of typos and errors in this work so I will be heavily editing what exists of it so far. I’m very sorry if these mistakes have made the story a bit of jarring read but I’ll be fixing them as soon as I can!


	2. Wands and Weasleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A muggle father and Diagon Alley just so happen to be a bad combination

“Right! Livy, this is Diagon Alley. You probably don’t remember coming here when you were little to pick mum up from work, but I’m banking on any memory you’ve got helping me not get lost. That dementia is just creeping in, I'm telling you.” Stanley was hit with a pleasant wave of nostalgia as he spoke to his daughter, making sure to keep his firm grip of her hand as she was prone to wandering. The school supplies trip to the bustling, narrow cobblestoned street was well underway for Olivia and her father. Getting there had been the easy part surprisingly, but now the pair were standing wide-eyed in a doorway, too overwhelmed and aware of how ‘muggle’ they must have appeared. 

“Dad, you’re not old. Dementia excuses only work when it’s from the prehistoric men in the pub. Oh, maybe we should stop someone and ask where to go? You said you only remember the music shop where mum worked, and we passed that like ten minutes ago. Oh, oh, can I get my books first?” Olivia’s attention was in a million places at once as she spoke loudly to her father over the noise of the crowd. It was funny to pick out all her fellow first years, chattering excitedly to their parents who looked pleased but exhausted. 

“Books? Right, a good shout to get them out the way first. Then we can get you a cauldron and your wand. Oh and that cat you mentioned!” Stanley exclaimed, his excitement was easing any nerves his daughter had. 

“That ginger man looking at the old robe shop looks nice and friendly, go ask him where… Flourish and Blotts is. Go on.” Olivia punctuated her last words with a light push on her father’s back to make sure he actually asked the aforementioned man. Stanley shot her a glare as he shuffled through the tightly knit crowd outside the second-hand shop. Olivia could not help but giggle watching her father, who was all limbs, politely mumble “excuse me’s” to reach the red-haired man in the very lovely knitted jumper and brown blazer. 

“Excuse me, mate- sir. Me and my daughter are on the first Hogwarts supply run, and I can’t find the book shop for the life of me. Couldn’t point us in the right direction, could you?” Stanley said with a friendly lilt in his voice. He motioned for Olivia to come over beside him quickly. 

“Oh Lord, the first trip is always the hardest, been doing these runs for a while now. Welcome to the place though, crowded and noisy as it is. Name’s Arthur Weasley, it’s good to see another new first-year parent out. Oh, hello, you must be the soon to be starting little lady?” The red-haired man spoke with such a pleasing warmth to his voice that Stanley visibly sighed in relief for approaching him. Olivia had joined her father and was now half hiding behind him once she noticed that Mr Weasley was a lot taller than she had thought. 

“Yeah, this is Olivia. Bit of a shy one but they’re all like that at eleven. I’m Stanley McLaren, muggle if you couldn’t notice by the confusion.” Stanley snorted, extending his hand out to Arthur, who gladly shook it.

“Muggle?! Oh fantastic, great to see such good support for a magic child. Love the Muggle culture, it’s a bit of a hobby of mine, collecting things I mean. I’ve recently gotten into radios and the like.” Mr Weasley spoke excitedly. His fascination with Muggle culture often got him labelled as a bit of an oddball, but Stanley found a friendly comfort in it. His own interest in wizarding culture had been reaching similar levels as of late. 

“A muggle out and about? Here? Poor bloke must be getting whiplash from looking around at everything.” Olivia did not recognise the disembodied voice, but she could tell it was from a boy around her age. As Mr Weasley and her father moved out of the way of the crowd to continue chatting, Olivia noticed two identical red-headed boys. They were dressed more or less the same aside from the colour of their trousers.

“Oi, don’t speak so loud. His daughter’s just there. You’ll look like a prat.” This boy had a slightly deeper voice than the other. 

“You two aren’t very quiet anyway, so don’t let me stop you. I’m Olivia by the way, hi. Sorry about my dad stealing your dad.” Olivia moved closer to the duo as she assumed her father was not going to be finishing up his riveting chat any time soon. May as well try and make some acquaintances. 

“See, told you she’d hear you.” One mumbled to the other. “Your dad is a poor sod though, getting our dad started about muggle stuff is dire.” 

“Well, getting him started about magic stuff is pretty bad too. Obsessive nutter that he is. Hope they don’t speak about quid-“ Olivia was abruptly cut off as the twins’ attention became focused down the street. The two boys' faces morphed into a slight grimace as they heard a woman’s voice.

“Fred! George! Where is your father? It's a busy day, and we can’t just be standing around. You’ve still got your books to get, don’t think I’ve forgotten about them!” An almost shrill motherly tone echoed up the street. The voice belonged to a small, stocky woman who was clad in clothing that Olivia could only describe as “curtain patterned”. 

“Molly! Finally found you, love. Just been speaking to Stan here about radio stations. Oh, and he needs to go get his girl’s books too. We’ll all go, help show you two around the area a bit in the process.” Arthur said, clapping his hands together and gathering the small group of brown and red hair to make their way to Flourish and Blotts. 

“George, I told you not to let your father get all scatterbrained today. One job, I ask one job of you.” The woman, who Olivia assumed to be Molly, jabbed a finger at the boy with the deeper voice and blue trousers. George. He did look like a George. 

“Mum, I’m George, you’re losing the plot again.” The brown trousered twin said. Olivia immediately became confused by the identity deception. 

“Woman, it’s talk like this that further convinces us that you’ve got a favourite child and that it’s Bill.” Not-George said in a matter of fact tone. The mischievous glint in both the boys’ eyes did not go unnoticed by the little witch standing between them. She liked these two. They were fun. 

“Oh goodness, sorry boys. Hectic first year supply trip does things to the brain, I swear.” Mrs Weasley gave an apologetic look towards the boys then turned her attention to Olivia. “It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’m Molly, the mother of these two and wife of the man who’s stolen your father. If you need a hand with anything, do let me know.” This lady radiated the same familial warmth that Mr Weasley did, and Olivia just adored it. She also decided she liked Mrs Weasley’s curtain pattern type clothing. Mrs Weasley quickly turned on her heels as Mr Weasley and Stanley marched forward in the assumed direction of the bookshop. The three eleven-year-olds were still trying to process their general existence in the still large crowd in the street as they watched their parents parade away. 

“We were only joking. I am George. Nice to meet you, Olivia, yeah?” Not-George, but now yes-George, muttered to Olivia. He had to lower his head quite a bit so that she would hear him; he did not know girls came this small for eleven years old. 

“I’m Fred, you probably won’t remember the real difference between us, but it’s nice to be nice, I suppose, Miss Olivia.” Fred extended his hand towards the little witch, initially catching her off guard with the forwardness, but she accepted the firm handshake from the boy. 

“Yeah, my name’s Olivia. Olivia McLaren. You can call me Livy or Liv though, full name is a bit too fancy-sounding most of the time.” Olivia felt comfortable with these two boys. It was very odd to her to be this at ease with people she had just met, but that cosy ethereal Weasley charm oozed from them. “We should probably catch up to them before they think we’re lost. Come on!” Olivia grinned, as she started to dash away through an opening in the crowd she spotted. George was first to react as he jogged along to keep up with her. Fred, however, was taking the walk at a leisurely pace, taking in the chaotic scenery of new and old students. 

*

Flourish and Blotts was just books. Wall to wall, floor to ceiling, books. That’s all there was as far as Olivia’s wide green eyes could see. The family allotment had competition in being heaven on earth for the girl. With her official school list in hand, Olivia sped off into the shop, dodging elbows and the occasional flying hardback. She found that they had a specific section for first-year textbooks and quickly gathered the ones she needed. She wished she had her dad to help carry them as some were comically big, but he was off in the muggle history section with the Weasley’s. Speaking of Weasley’s, Olivia sensed the duo’s presence over her shoulders, browsing the bookshelves and obviously looking to bother her further. 

“You’re very on the ball with book shopping, aren’t you?” George chuckled. He was peering at the bookshelf over her shoulder, picking up the strangest books he could spot. The redhead seemed perfectly comfortable invading Olivia’s personal space. 

“I’m not used to these freaky, magical books, remember? Plus I like getting to learn all this new stuff.” Olivia countered with a chuckle of her own. She really was beginning to have a hard time carrying all the textbooks. Maybe she could dump some on the boys?

“Bit weird in our humble opinion but whatever floats your boat.” Fred spoke, beginning to flick through the pages of some ratty old book. The boy pretending to push imaginary reading glasses up his nose as he read. “Fantastic piece here about Kelpies. Would give it four stars based on the couple of words I could understand.” 

Olivia snorted at Fred’s pompous old man impression as George began to encourage him by asking absurd questions, in a similar elderly man voice, about whatever a Kelpie was. The three continued to banter as they made their way through the shop. Olivia led them to the herbology section and picked up a few extra books that piqued her interest. One, in particular, was about the magical properties of British wildflowers, and that was to be her reading on the train to school. 

The two red-headed boys shockingly asked her questions about the books she picked up; where did the interest come from? Did she know about magic pretty well already? Was growing veg as annoying as their mother made it out to be? The young girl was surprised that she got to talk about growing winter vegetables in a magical bookshop of all places, but she welcomed the curious head tilts from Fred and George. 

“Livy! Oh good, you did find that herby section,” Oh how her father knew her so well. “And you got the ones you actually need, fab! Just noticed the time and we need to get a move on if I’m gonna open the pub on time tonight. Say bye to your mates and get your skates on!” Stanley spoke quickly as he gathered the heavier books from his daughter’s arms. Potions looked like it would be a right cow of a subject. The fleece clad man could not fight back the lopsided grin that spread across his face at the sight he had found. Olivia was laughing and speaking so happily to those two boys. Her quieter nature had so often gotten the better of her and held her back from expressing her personal quirks freely. 

“So when I’m having nice chats, we need to get going, but when you’re off gabbing about radios, then I’m left on my lonesome. Double standards, dad, absolutely terrible.” Olivia jokingly sneered back to her dad, who gave her an apologetic smile and laugh. It was terrible though, she was having a lot of fun in the shop and talking to the twins, she even learned that they had a keen interest in fireworks and practical jokes. “You can carry the heavy books on the train home then. That’s my one condition for me going to that smelly cauldron shop.” 

“I’ll let you pick whichever cat you want? Fair deal, little madam?” Yes, that would do the trick to get Livy moving. Stanley started to make his way to the till down the narrow staircase, textbooks in hands and galleons rattling around in his wallet. Olivia turned to the twins and gave them an exaggerated frown and hung her head. 

“I need to leave now, sorry if you two were trying to hide away from your mum for a bit. I’ll see you in September, though! Bye, Gred! Bye, Forge!” She spoke frantically when she realised that she would likely lose her father to some magical knickknack if she did not keep up. Both Fred and George did not have enough time to properly say their goodbyes before the flannel shirt clad girl was sprinting down the rickety stairs, nearly pushing over a snotty looking man with slicked white-blonde hair. The boys shared a quick snigger at the nicknames she had called them. They would have to keep that one in mind to wind their mother and siblings further up.

“She’s a bit of an oddball. Good kind of odd though.” George idly muttered the words as he turned back to his brother to see which weird book he had become preoccupied with. He was met with Fred holding a variety of the grade one textbooks with a smug smirk etched on his face.

“Aw, does Georgie like the plant girl already?” Fred’s teasing was met with a swift hit on his back with a small book that George had grabbed. They had just met the poor girl, and she was clearly well out of her depth in Diagon Alley, of course, George was going to be nice to her. Besides, from what he saw of their fathers’ interactions, it may be a good idea to become friendly with the young McLaren.

“Just because you know I’m the best one out of us. But we’ve got bigger things to think about than girls.” George was right, they still had to come up with a way to slip a variety of fireworks past their mother and time was getting on. He had not been lying about thinking he was the favourite twin though, Molly rarely gave Fred the important jobs outside of the dishes and fixing the garden so George took that as being the favourite. The twins continued to bicker and fought over the less ratty versions of the books they needed. Fred eventually coming out on top in both cases.

“Boys! We need to get a move on if you want to get your wands.” Molly hollered up the stairs as she climbed to reach her sons. “Oh, good you got all the books on the list. Did Olivia help you? Keep an eye on her when you’re at school, will you? Her father was run ragged worrying about her.” The hefty pile of books were heaved up from the floor and taken to the tills and so another thing was clicked off of the twins’ school to-do lists. The red-headed family made their way along the tightly packed shops of Diagon Alley, continuing to pick up the soon to be Hogwarts students’ essentials. George caught sight of Olivia’s green flannel shirt as she and her father exited Olivanders, the historical wand shop. The girl was chatting animatedly to her equally excited father and was twirling the dark wood ornate wand in her hands. He decided that he liked her strange excitement about every little magical thing she came in contact with. She seemed nice and that was enough for him.

*

“Arthur was a great lad, wasn’t he? Absolutely lovely of him and Molly to come to our rescue. We had a brilliant chat about radios and I told him about when I worked in that radio station during university. Reminds me, I need to owl him some cassettes!” Stanley truly was in his element as he rambled on to his daughter who was perched on one of the aged leather barstools. “Listen to me going on! How was today for you, Livy? I hope I wasn’t too embarrassing, but it’s not every day you see your little girl get her wand. Like fucking hell - aw shit.” Stanley had been so wrapped up in making sure Olivia had had a good day that his rougher language made an appearance. Olivia had shot him a look with a raised eyebrow, her gaze moving between her father and the jar behind the bar that had a few coins and banknotes shoved inside. They had a swear jar because Stanley wanted Olivia to learn to speak properly. This did not stop the occasional f-bomb explosion, however.

“That’s two words so get two pounds in the jar. Shameful behaviour for a business owner, dad.” The girl smirked as she heard two coins clatter into the jar. The sudden noise caused the grey and white cat in her lap to stir and poke his head up over the bar to shoot his own little glare at Stanley. “Morning, Monty. Hope you had an okay sleep and don’t mind the sticky bar top.” Olivia giggled, giving the cat a good scratch behind the ears which he gladly purred into. Stanley was in the process of doing any last-minute cleaning before the pub, The Black Hare, opened for the evening. Olivia usually helped with cleaning the pint glasses and filling the small bowls around the place with salted nuts but tonight she was too enamoured with her new wand, new cat and new books. Honestly, it was like Christmas had come early for her and she could not help happily fidgeting on the barstool. 

The clock above the bar displayed six o’clock as Stanley started neatly packing all her new school supplies into her beat-up blue camping rucksack. Knowing this was her cue to make herself scarce so she did not have to deal with the pensioner patrons. The father and daughter shared a quick hug and she was given a kiss goodnight in advance before she and Monty headed upstairs to the flat.

Monty was a very well behaved cat that had seemed almost drawn to Olivia when she met his yellow eyes in the pet shop that afternoon. He found enjoyment in rubbing his face into her arm as he explored his new home. “I cleaned up and everything for you, Monty. Even got you a crazy comfy bed from the nice nice pet shop.” Olivia pulled a plush, grey tartan patterned cat bed out from her wardrobe and placed it down near the foot of her own bed. The grey cat, however, had other plans as he leapt onto her fresh bedsheets and rolled his hair across them. “Wow, cheers for that. It’s a good thing you’re well behaved and cute. Now, scootch over a bit.” The young witch and her new whiskered companion were blissfully laid out on her only slightly cramped, low bed. She gazed at the ceiling and let out a content sigh, all the glow in the dark stars stuck to her roof were formed in constellations and she found that following them calmed her. September 1st was only two weeks away and then she would be off to a new chapter in her life. This knowledge was exhilarating, both in a good and bad way. There was a pang of worry that she would be expected to grow up much faster while at the wizarding school, Olivia could not put her finger on it but she just felt it to be the case. Her worry-worm tendencies were cut short, however, as Monty made his way to lie on her stomach and have another snooze.

Olivia fell asleep oddly quickly that night after her dinner of lentil soup and several slices of a baguette. Her internal clock continued to tick, the first day of September being just a short countdown away. She hoped that getting on the train would not be too difficult with her dad. She hoped that Fred and George would be easy to find and that they would be okay with her sitting out the journey with them. She was a stickler for hope at that moment, and she had not been that happy in quite a while.


	3. There She Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running through a wall in Kings Cross Station to get to a school truly did sound mad.

The London Underground was an awfully sweaty place at ten o’clock in the morning. The rush-hour commuters had been out of the way for several hours already but the general public continued to pile into the tunnels and onto the cramped tube trains. Olivia and Stanley themselves did not look out of place on the train heading to Kings Cross Station but the huge brown leather luggage trunk and the old metal cage carrier holding Monty certainly did. The magical platform bound pair had made a distinct effort to dress in a way that looked incredibly normal – this being Stanley’s stressed suggestion that morning over the fried breakfast he had made. So, dressed in blue jeans, a striped t-shirt and a slightly too big grey cardigan, Olivia McLaren was making her way to mystical Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

The luggage trunk had come in handy as a makeshift seat on the train for her and Monty. Many suited up adults gave her snide sideways glances but were quickly put in their place by Stanley looming over them with his piercing blue-eyed stare. Even with his generally goofy nature, he was still aware that he could look rather menacing when the time called for it. The automated voice rang through the train to say that the next stop would be Kings Cross Station. This was it, Olivia thought, the day’s finally here. Stanley began to fuss, making sure that Olivia double and triple checked that she had everything she would need for on the train in her rucksack. She could not help but roll her eyes at her father, she had been fully packed for the past three days and Monty even gave her a slight nod of support. Olivia and Stanley finally shuffled their way off the train and headed swiftly for the escalators, Monty mewling in discomfort from being jostled about.

“God, I haven’t been here in an age, you know that, Livy. Got no clue where this funky platform is either. Hope the Weasley’s are kicking about so we don’t look all deer in the headlights again.” Stanley and Mr Weasley had kept up their muggle and magic culture discussions via owl for the past week and a half. Many cassettes and miscellaneous radio bits that were lying around the flat were parcelled up and sent to the Weasley household – Olivia learned that their home was lovingly referred to as The Burrow and was down south near Devon. The McLaren’s had not been left empty-handed as Arthur had taken to sending little magical knickknacks for Stanley to tinker with. Truth be told, all the bits and pieces had made their permanent home on the dinner table, among the normal post and phonebooks.

“I like Mr Weasley, his letters are always funny. I liked the little sparklers he put in the envelope of the last one. Fred and George said they liked making their own fireworks so maybe it was one of theirs, that’d be wicked.” Olivia spoke with evident purpose as she and her father marched arm in arm through the massive and bustling train station. “Can I go get a snack for the train? If it’s all the way up to Scotland then it’ll be six hours, at least.” Despite having had a mountain of a breakfast, Olivia knew she should keep eating on the train to avoid her nervous stomach making her miss a meal. The pair diverted their route to stop by the small newsagent’s kiosk, both picking up some chocolate as a little treat given that it was such an important day. Not even thirty seconds after Stanley handed the kiosk worker some change did his head whip around at a familiar shrill motherly tone.

“Everyone keep up! Can’t go losing any of you, you’re all far too old for that now! Charlie stop speeding ahead, I know you want to see that girl but wait for the boys!” The Weasley charm had finally made its appearance at Kings Cross for that morning. Olivia was now seeing the small army that was the Weasley family as the parade of red hair made their ways towards Platforms nine and ten. She knew Molly, Arthur, Fred and George but there were faces she did not see at Diagon Alley. There was a tall freckled boy leading the charge, he must have been around sixteen years old and responded to the several yells of “Charlie!” so he was Charlie apparently.

“Arthur! Molly! Morning all. Me and Livy are so glad you lot hadn’t already headed to the platform.” Stanley called out and began to drag Olivia by the elbow, trunk and cat carrier also being dragged much to Monty’s bemusement.

“Stan! Great to see you again. We need to stop meeting like this when you’re muggle ways take over. Hello, Olivia, I hope you’re looking forward to today, the big day that it is.” Arthur brought his family to a halt so that he could properly greet the McLaren’s. Olivia instinctively shuffled behind her father as the group of redheads gathered around Mr Weasley. “Goodness, look at the time! Get to the pillar between platforms nine and ten, kids. Molly can you take Ginny and I’ll get Ron?” Well, that was a fleeting greeting and a half, Olivia thought. The families began to make their way towards the brick pillar that stood between the platforms and then Olivia’s breath was knocked out of her throat. The oldest boy, Charlie, sprinted full force at the brickwork with his luggage trolley and passed through it like it was made of smoke.

“You saw ginger snap disappear there too, right?” Stanley muttered into Olivia’s ear as the two of them stared at the pillar in now anxious shock. She was going to have to sprint at a wall to get this bleeding train? What if she missed and the muggle train staff saw her? As her mental gymnastics played through the variety of embarrassing outcomes, the next Weasley boy, Percy, had walked briskly through the barrier. He was closely followed by Molly and the young girl. Stanley’s bewildered expression had been noticed by Arthur and he moved to comfort the lanky man by explaining that Olivia would be absolutely fine.

“You want to go next, Olivia, or should I?” Fred asked, knocking his trolley lightly against Olivia’s. The loud holler from Monty brought her back to reality and the fact that the train would be leaving in just fifteen minutes.

“Oh, Fred, sorry. You go, on you go. Need to get my dad anyway.” Olivia explained. Stanley had calmed down, but only just. The fact that he would be coming back through this barrier without his daughter was beginning to dawn on him and to say it was having an impact was an understatement.

“I’m George. Honestly, Olivia, I remembered your name, didn’t I!” He was Fred. As much as they did look identical, there were subtle differences that once one noticed them, they were hard to ignore. Mostly it was their different tones of voice, the bridges of their noses and the way they held themselves. Without as much as another word, Fred shot off towards the barrier, disappearing into the brown bricks.

“It’s only funny when we both commit to the bit, you git!” George was beginning to line up his trolley with the barrier as he scoffed at his brother’s terrible comedic timing. “Oh wait, no, Livy, you go first. I’ve done this loads of times so you’ll be perfectly safe on the other side. Just remember to stop running when you get through. I about took out someone’s mum once. Anyway, good luck!” With an encouraging slap on her back, Olivia was being moved to line herself up with the platform barrier. 

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. 

And sprint.

“Livy! Wait a second!” She could hear Stanley call behind her just before her body passed through onto a packed train platform. Thankfully, her trainer clad feet had halted just before she too almost knocked over a woman who was fussing over her son. With a sheepish mumble of apology, Olivia’s eyes began to take in the scene around her. 

Owls were hooting impatiently in cages. Children and teens were trying to escape their parents’ fussing. The impressive scarlet steam engine whistled to notify everyone that they should be making their way abroad or else be left at the station. 

A hand rested on Olivia’s shoulder as she stood slack-jawed and overwhelmed. Her father began herding his daughter towards the train door along with the Weasley family. “Right. We need to have a little chat before you get on board, Olivia.” Oh no, she knew what chat this was going to be, and she was not in any state to process her father crying and giving her one of his bone-crushing hugs. 

“Dad, I-” Olivia began but was cut off by the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently.

“Olivia, listen to me. This is a big deal today. I know that you might think I’m being overprotective, but I haven’t gone more than two days since you were born without you with me. You’re about to leave until Christmas then be away again until June, it’s gonna be tough but I am so proud of you. You’re gonna be amazing up there, sweetpea. One thing I will say though is don’t go trying to be like mum in all the stories she told you. She’d be pretty pissed if you went copying her, you know.” Stanley shared a chuckle with his daughter at the mention of Mary. Olivia had always idolised her mother but he did not want that to overshadow her finding her own place in the magical world. Stanley knew that him being a muggle would be a hindrance for Olivia to an extent. While half-bloods and muggle-borns were not often looked down upon anymore; there were still several influential magical families that maintained their crass opinions on ‘blood mixing’. Mary had spoken of these issues, not at great length, but enough to convey their very real existence. No one was going to hold his little girl back just because of him, Stanley had committed to upholding this belief for the rest of his life.

“Livy! Come on or we’re leaving without you!” George’s holler sounded from behind Stanley but Olivia’s attention did not break. She was scared to be apart from her father for the first time.

“That’s your cue to get going. Olivia - I love you so much.” With that, the small witch was hauled into one of those extremely bone-crushing Stanley hugs. She did not care, however. She clung to her father’s sports jacket for a few seconds too long before readying herself to catch up with Fred and George.

“I love you too, dad. So so so much. I’ll write to you every week, I promise.” Olivia said, giving her father a quivering smile. With a link of their pinky fingers and one last hug, Olivia was shuffling behind the Weasley twins and looking for a seat on the train. 

The train seemed just as hectic as the platform. However, there was less coherent thought and more intense fizzing excitement. Olivia noticed that so many other first years were already forming groups in the seating compartments, already making their friends. Grateful to have Fred and George, she followed behind them closely through the ridiculously packed narrow hallway. Having a hold on the hem of one of the boy’s jumpers had seemed like the best course of action to avoid getting lost but that quickly changed when a group of older teens tried to restore order in the hallway. It was an absolutely fabulous start to the journey, she had lost the only two people she knew on the bloody train. 

Olivia accepted defeat in the situation very quickly, she could not be bothered searching through the multitude of compartments for the familiar red hair. Besides, what if they began to see her as something like a clingy, annoying little sister if she kept hanging around them too long. No, Olivia would just go find some new people to sit with and hopefully have a good chat with. She began to wander along the emptying hallway, battered rucksack on her back and cat carrier in hand. She was going to make mates of her own. 

The search for fellow first-years led her to a fairly empty compartment. There was a boy and a girl sitting across from each other, sharing some sweets that Olivia had never seen before. An actual frog but it was chocolate? Absolutely mental, she thought. Olivia mustered up the little confidence she had at that moment and knocked on the small window of the compartment door. “Hi, is it okay if I sit in here? E-everywhere else is full of older people.” She stuttered a bit. Of course, she would not be able to fake the confidence for a whole sentence.

“Oh, yeah of course! I was hoping another girl would come sit with us. I’m Preet, Preet Bhatia.” The girl of the compartment was certainly a warm welcome that Olivia was more than thankful to receive. Preet had the prettiest hair Olivia had ever seen, it fell to her waist in two black neat braids and it was so shiny. Her large brown eyes met Olivia’s green with genuine happiness and innocent excitement. This girl seemed nice, lovely in fact. “What’s your name? Aw, you have a cat, they’re so cute! I wanted a cat but my dad said an owl would be a better idea for post and feeding and all that stuff.” Preet spoke with a rather polished accent, contrasting with her mile a minute speech pattern. 

“My name’s Olivia McLaren. My cat’s called Monty, after a comedy thing my dad and I like. You can pet him, he is a friendly boy.” Olivia’s initial nerves began to melt away as she spoke to the bubbly girl. Monty sauntered out of his carrier and headed straight to Preet’s waiting hand, ever the affectionate feline he was. 

“Scott! Isn’t he pretty? He’s so soft, come pet him. He’ll probably like you but I won’t make any promises. With your torn face he’ll probably run away back to me.” Preet badgered the boy in the compartment. He simply rolled his peculiarly blue eyes, they were such a bright colour that Olivia had never seen before. The young witch was beginning to feel a little bit underwhelming in terms of appearance. Maybe she could learn to charm her hair to be a different colour? 

“Cats love me, shut up. I’m Scott, by the way, Scott Reeves. Nice to meet you, Olivia. Since Preet forgot her manners.” Scott gave her a warm smile, his eyes now obscured by his messy, dark bowl-cut hair. A bowl-cut? Poor boy, Olivia thought. Preet scoffed at Scott’s comment and continued to be enamoured with Monty. 

“Olivia! Scottie and I were just speaking about the sorting before you came in, so you join in too. Which house do you want to be in? Which house do you think you’ll be in? And which house do you really not want to be in? For me, I’d say it’s Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and then Hufflepuff.” Goodness, Preet could speak for Britain. Not that Olivia minded since she was not the best at starting a conversation. If anything, all of the black haired girl’s chatter was more than welcome. 

“I said I don’t mind but I really want to be a Gryffindor like my mum was.” Scott said. He seemed to be a rather blunt boy without it being mean, which Olivia admired. She had heard stories about people from each of the Hogwarts houses; Ravenclaws being the majority but that was to be expected. Olivia had a vague idea of the types of people who were sorted into the houses, she did not want to stereotype people before she even met them but it was nice to be given an initial read on their personalities. Gryffindors were a confident bunch, if not a little bit impulsive. Hufflepuffs were loyal and some of the best friends one could have. Ravenclaws were the sensible crowd but, in reality, they were just smart enough to not get caught. Slytherins were the enigma of the school, however. Many of the Slytherins Olivia’s mother had told her about were perfectly nice, if not a little selfish on occasions. The house was unfortunately seen as the breeding ground for foul ideologies; many of the worst students in it being affluent pure-bloods her parents had warned her about. 

All the talk of houses soon fed into the trio getting to know each other better. Preet spoke at length about her love for quidditch and how she planned to become one of the Chasers on her house team. The girl had her heart set on the sport being in her future in whatever capacity she could get.

Scott was a bit more reserved than his compartment companions. He discussed fairly standard aspects of his life; where he was from, if he had any hobbies, his disdain for quidditch. Although, he did talk about his parents who were healers at St Mungo’s Hospital with a feverish enthusiasm. Scott was proud to be their son and hoped to be just like them when he grew up. 

Preet and Scott had also told Olivia, at great length, about how they knew each other so well. Preet’s mother and both of Scott’s parents all worked at St Mungo’s together, working together on a variety of medical magic studies in recent years. The pair had griped about how they were essentially forced to be around each other so often because of their parents’ work but Olivia knew that they both enjoyed the friendship. Having parents who were so important and respected within the wizarding world must have brought along its fair share of pressure so Olivia did not pry into their home lives too much.

“Wow. You two have such cool lives. Living in the magical world sounds so different to the muggle one. I just do gardening and help my dad around our family pub.” Olivia sighed, she was feeling even more like a fish out of water with each passing sentence. 

“Muggle London is wicked though. It’s massive and every time me and my parents go it’s been the best. Don’t feel down about being from there, I think that makes you pretty cool.” Preet beamed at Olivia in an attempt to make the girl feel a bit better. If Preet was one thing, aside from loud, it was observant. 

“I hate to say it but she’s right. Plus gardening is a really nice hobby. Herbology is mad interesting, so you’ll likely be top of the class by the sounds of it.” Snarky comment towards Preet aside, Olivia really appreciated those words from the young boy. She was glad to hear that someone she knew also had an interest in herbology. “Besides, if anyone makes a bad comment about you, Preet and I will - AH!” 

The compartment door being heaving open caused Scott to shriek and jump back towards the window. Two equally proud smirks were on the other side of the door and Olivia almost jumped up from her seat.

“Olivia! Great, we finally found you. Your hairball was a big help in the search party so here you go.” Fred had Monty wriggling around in his arms, trying to escape the ginger boy’s clutches. Freedom was finally granted and the cat sped onto Olivia’s lap, burying his little face into her sleeve. 

“Hi, boys. Sorry about getting lost when we got on the train. Some prefects, I think, were herding everyone into compartments.” Olivia explained, wondering why they had chosen to come to look for her. How long had they been looking anyway?

“Yeah, when I noticed the lack of girl on my jumper I got suspicious.” She had been holding George’s jumper apparently then. “Our mum told us to give you this too. It’s our address for post and that. She offered to help your dad if you have any magic questions, I think.” George handed her a small beige envelope. Why would a simple note need to be in an envelope?

“We’re Fred and George, by the way. Hello and very sorry for the fright.” Fred leaned a bit further into the compartment and smiled rather sincerely at Preet and Scott. Honestly, the two of them were still coming back from being scared by the twins’ entrance. They smiled sheepishly and introduced themselves. 

“Aw, that’s really nice of her. I might just need to keep you two around now as my thanks to her.” Olivia did not know where that snark came from. It usually took at least a good few conversations with someone for her to reach her natural level of sarcasm, so this was new territory. She quickly tore open the envelope so she did not have to meet the twins’ eyes. 

A small bang rang out as she unfolded the piece of paper and glitter exploded across the entire compartment. The twins roared with laughter from the doorway as Olivia, Scott and Preet grumbled at the extraordinary mess. “Guess you will be stuck with our glittering presence for quite a bit longer!” George howled. The pun forced a collective cringe within the compartment.

“Bye, Olivia.” The boys called in unison as they sped off down the train, back to their compartment that was no doubt suffering the same as the trio. 

“Ugh! It got all in my shoes, this is gonna take like five washes to get off.” Scott yelled, kicking his feet in an attempt to de-glitter his trainers. 

“Shut up, Reeves. I got it in my mouth, and my hair looks mad now. I’m gonna strangle those dolts!” Preet shook her head roughly onto Scott’s shoes. The two continued to bicker as Olivia attempted to mediate while brushing specks of glitter from Monty’s angry face.

She began to laugh, loudly and wholeheartedly. She could not find it in herself to be mad about the glitter explosion, possibly a tad miffed but that was all. The young trio continued to chat and hold “civil debates” up until the train began to come to a halt. Outside the large window was a long train platform in the middle of a dark forest area. 

Olivia’s stomach lurched heavily and before she knew it Preet was helping her put her rucksack on and pulling her onto the train platform. The girls were met with the imposing figure of a gigantic man with a gigantic beard. Olivia did not have enough time to enquiry about the impressively hairy man as Preet sandwiched herself between her and “little Scottie”, linking their arms and marching towards candlelit rowboats.

They were going to have to row their way to the castle?!


	4. Eagle, Lion, Snake and Badger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some wrinkled, ratty, old hat is in charge of such a life-changing decision?

There was a surprisingly small throng of first years that made their way into The Great Hall that year. Olivia had expected there to be at least over a hundred children but there were only thirty by her count. All of the new students were donned in black robes and fairly standard school uniforms. How happy Stanley had been to be able to reuse her old British Home Stores school shirts, they had been a tad expensive after all. 

At the head of the crowd of eleven year olds was a rather stone-faced, older witch who wore deep purple robes and the elegant equivalent of a witch Halloween costume hat. This woman had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall in the entrance hall. While her face conveyed that of a stressed and stern woman, Olivia did not miss the small smile and glint in her eyes as she looked over the new students, all of whom looked up at her in awe. 

Behind the towering wooden doors of Hogwarts was a castle that Olivia could not help but compare to that of a medieval museum exhibit. The walls were a rough, carved sandstone that had somehow appeared fresh and ancient at the same time. The carvings in the stone resembled some strange creatures that she assumed were mystical and, therefore, all too real.  
Olivia swore she even saw some staircases to the right of the Great Hall move around on their own. 

Olivia would never forget how she felt like an animal at a zoo as the older Hogwarts students stared intently at the soon to be sorted children. The attention was overwhelming but she had been able to ground herself again as Preet grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. A familiar ginger head could be seen over a few of the other students, the accompanying brown eyes glanced at Olivia, who was still slightly trembling in her well-worn school shoes. A reassuring smile and small thumbs-up were shot her way and she continued to be put at ease in the middle of the momentous room. He had a bump on his nose bridge. George seemed to be keeping the promise of keeping a slight eye out for the little McLaren girl. 

A small four-legged wooden stool was placed in front of the first years and Professor McGonagall rested a frayed, beat up pointed hat atop it.

The hat blinked. The hat twitched and then it began to sing, slightly off-key but not entirely unpleasant. The lyrics about the four houses and the hat’s unfortunate appearance were lost on Olivia for the most part as her eyes darted around the room for the umpteenth time. There were bloody ghosts filing into the Hall, both through the large main doors and the stone walls. 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to command the attention of the children after the hat finished its heartfelt ballad. “When I call your name, please come forward. The sorting hat will be placed on your head and you will be placed into one of the four houses,” she said. “Bhatia, Preet!” Olivia returned the earlier favour by giving Preet’s hand a reassuring squeeze before she motioned the black-haired girl forward. The wrinkled hat was placed on top of Preet’s head and then several moments of a palpable silence passed.

“RAVENCLAW!” bellowed the hat. The table nearest to the right wall began to cheer and applaud for their newest addition. Preet had guessed correctly on the train to her apparent surprise based on her wide eyes and glittering grin.

“Brooke, Nicholas!” A sandy blonde-haired boy made his way towards the hat and the moments of deliberation were even shorter as the hat sorted him into Hufflepuff. “Jordan, Lee!” An extremely happy looking boy with dreadlocks made his way to the stool and let his legs swing slightly before the hat sorted him into Gryffindor. It was clear that the boy had been hoping to be placed into that house and Olivia was happy for him.

Students continued to be called forward and sorted by the hat’s wrinkled face and then suddenly, “McLaren, Olivia!” All eyes were on her as she shuffled slowly towards the raised stage at the head of the hall. Olivia quickly glanced out into the now dwindled crowd of first years. She met eyes with Fred, George and Scott who each smiled at her; each smile conveying different attempts at silent reassurance. The young witch’s heart was thumping like a bass drum and she soon began to worry that she would be placed in a house by herself. A multitude of what if’s whizzed around her mind.

“RAVENCLAW!” the hat called out into the hall. 

“Oh thank god.” Olivia muttered under the cheers from the Ravenclaw table. She could see Preet standing on the long bench she had been perched on as she waved at the now hat hair afflicted Olivia. She dashed towards her new housemates but was pulled into a tight hug from Preet.

“Olivia, yay! I was hoping we’d be together. I hope you don’t mind putting up with me for the next seven years. I’ll do your hair every morning to make up for it.” Preet was such a talkative and friendly girl and Olivia was glad she had been taken under the girl’s wing. That promise about the hair was also a fairly sweet deal to her. Two Ravenclaw prefects made a point to shake hands with Olivia to which she began to feel even more at home amongst the royal blue accented robes.

“Reeves, Scott!” Preet and Olivia’s attention snapped towards the stool quickly as they caught Scott’s striking eyes. There was a worry behind them and the boy’s jaw looked almost painfully clenched.

“GRYFFINDOR!” Oh. Scott had guessed his true house correctly too. Olivia could not help but feel a pang of sadness as she saw Scott race over to the incredibly loud table, having his hair ruffled by that Lee Jordan boy. Preet’s face flashed with disappointment too but it quickly faded as she yelled her congrats across the Hufflepuff table to Scott. Olivia was only bothered about the sorting of two more boys, Fred and George. She knew that it was near impossible that they would be in Ravenclaw but she could still hope. She could see Charlie nearly standing on the Gryffindor table to get a clear view of his little brothers’ sorting; Percy did not share the same level of uncontrollable excitement, however. 

Both of the twins were to be Gryffindors, just like all of the other Weasley’s. Olivia was happy for the boys but she could not help but be worried that she would not be seeing much of them during the school year. Gryffindors appeared to have somewhat of a pack mentality and Olivia was convinced that one little Ravenclaw would not be able to shake that. She liked Fred and George, quite a bit actually. They did not talk down to her and viewed her as an equal even though she was a tad clueless when it came to magic. Plus, she enjoyed a good laugh and the two of them were wonderful suppliers.

Preet noticed the perplexed look on her friend’s face after the George boy made his way across to sit beside his brother and Scott. This was going to be some good teasing material once the girls’ became a bit closer. Preet smirked into her dinner after the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore’s, welcome speech. This was going to be fun, indeed.


	5. Not Mushroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haircut via firework? Sounds wonderful

The Ravenclaw girls’ dormitories were much more luxurious when compared to Olivia’s little bedroom back in London. She awoke in her four-post bed once again, under the softest navy blue cotton duvet. She had been at school for around about a month and it had been fairly uneventful. Of course, there had been normal school shenanigans but nothing particularly massive and/or magical had occurred. 

“Livy! Do we have Herbology this morning? Sorry to shout but you wouldn’t listen this early otherwise.” A fluffy pillow collided with Preet’s face as she leaned over the end of Olivia’s bed. Olivia would never be a morning person no matter how hard she tried. 

“Yeah, we have to bring along extra parchment because she wants us to start taking notes. It’s magical fungi today, I think too.” Olivia spoke in between yawning as she began to drag a brush through her hair and put on her uniform. Monty lounged on her pillow, watching her rush around to get ready. The extent of his day being potentially moving from his soft throne to prowl around the school grounds.

“Cool, cool. I’m glad I’ve got you to help make that class a bit more interesting. Professor Sprout getting on at Scott can only keep me entertained for so long.” Preet was braiding her long hair while sitting cross-legged on her friend’s bed. She would even go so far as to say that Olivia was her best friend as the girls were now essentially joined at the hip. 

“Professor Sprout just likes that I can talk to her about plants that aren’t magic ones. I get the feeling she’s going to pass me around for homework help.” Olivia retorted. She found herself really wishing that she had gotten a haircut before leaving for school as her hairbrush continued to get tangled in her hair. Even with her hair tied up in a ponytail, it still swung at the small of her back. There was no helping it that morning. With her backpack filled with parchment and the books for the day’s classes, Olivia and Preet made their way out of the common room and towards the bustling staircases. 

Breakfast at Hogwarts was similar to that of Olivia’s father’s cooking efforts on Sunday mornings; in that the food seemed never ending and delicious. The toast racks were floating along the long tables, there was enough tea to fill the Black Lake and the eggs, goodness the eggs were always perfect. 

“Oh, braids, you did something new with the hair then?” Scott said sarcastically as he sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the girls. The two were glad that he still made the effort to come to sit with them rather than with his dorm mates. Preet would never admit this but Olivia knew it to be true. The black-haired girl proceeded to whack Scott’s arm with a roll of parchment. It never was a dull day with the two’s bickering. 

“You still don’t want to go sit with your roommates? Are they that bad or did they shun you?” Preet spoke behind her mug of heavily sugared tea. 

“It’s the Weasleys, they’re alright as people but the jokes are just annoying. I woke up with this weird slime in my shoes this morning.” Scott then took off his shoe and tipped out a small clump of green slime that resembled a particularly bad sneeze. “See! I still didn’t get it all out. Don’t know what you see in them, Liv.” 

“Our dads became mates when we were school shopping. I think the stuff they do is funny too, besides they aren’t doing it to be nasty.” Olivia explained. She did think the pranks were funny, for the most part. Of course, a few she had heard about from Scott were questionable but they remained harmless. “Look at the time. You and your snot feet distracting us from our breakfast, terrible.” Olivia began to wolf down the last of her breakfast and motioned for her friends to do the same. 

The trio still had more than enough time to reach the greenhouses for their class but Olivia and Scott found that they enjoyed wandering the castle in the mornings. 

*

The Weasley twins had succeeded in their plan to smuggle some prank materials into the school. They had Herbology as their first class that day and while they did plan on attending, they also planned on testing out some charmed firecrackers. 

“Making those Slytherin gits from Charms start tap dancing with these would be a good idea.” Fred suggested to his twin. They were both peering around the courtyard that was quickly emptying of students. 

“It’s the first time we’ve used these so maybe go with a safer bet so we don’t get detention again.” George was silent in thought for a moment. “What about Olivia? She’s heading to Herbology too. She won’t get us in trouble. Hell, she might even think it’s funny.” 

“Oh, look at you knowing her timetable.” Fred teased, he really could not pass up the opportunity to wind George up. The hard push and muttered “shut up” from his brother were well worth it. “That’s a smart idea, Georgie. What would I do without you?” Fred was prepared to be extra annoying that morning but their target was fast approaching, “Oh! Here she comes!” 

With a flick of his wand, George sent the enchanted firecracker hurtling towards Olivia’s feet. However, the twins still had far to go in terms of their magical pranks. The fireworks were supposed to be able to focus their small explosions towards a concentrated target. The twins intend to use this as a way to set them off at Olivia’s feet; perfectly harmless and a fantastic means to wake her up properly that morning. 

This plan was not how it went. Not at all. 

Firstly, the bangs and whizzes had spread to Preet who was walking beside Olivia. Both girls yelped in surprise and Preet continued to scream bloody murder after the boys she assumed had lit the crackers. Then a few of the stray embers floated up Olivia’s back, latching onto her long ponytail and began to singe off a fair few inches of hair. 

To say that the twins were horrified would be an understatement. She was definitely going to get them in trouble after the dodgy haircut. Fred was prepared to run but immediately thought better of it when he considered that his mother may find out about the situation. 

Suddenly, they heard a wheezing laugh. As Preet was frantically investigating Olivia’s burnt ends but the ‘victim’ was nearly bent double with laughter. Olivia had just been thinking that she needed a haircut - this method was a tad unorthodox but the new length, just hitting her shoulder blades, was quite lovely. 

“You two gits could have lit her head on fire!” Preet bellowed as the twins approached the girls and Scott. Fred was awkwardly apologising after being shocked at the girl’s laughter but George was still staring at her as she doubled over. Why was she laughing?

“Preet, shut up, this is brilliant! I was just thinking I needed a haircut this morning. Thanks, boys.” Olivia had begun to make her way towards the greenhouses again. She dragged Preet behind her before she burst a blood vessel from shouting at Fred and George. Scott, ever the unbothered boy, gave his housemates a shrug and a wave. 

“She’s mental, absolutely lost it.” Fred smirked, still slightly surprised by Olivia’s positive reaction. 

“I knew she’d find it funny.” George mumbled under his breath but, of course, his brother caught it. The teasing was put on hold, however, because they had a class to get to. 

“Maybe we should try a hand at firework haircuts? Could be ‘a two birds, one stone’ sort of thing.” Fred pondered, he was mostly just thinking out loud and did not need George to respond. George was not going to respond any time soon as he was still processing why Olivia had not yelled at them. Everyone yelled at them when the fireworks were brought out. 

The first years’ Herbology class was fairly standard until the students were put into pairs to discuss the chapter of ‘1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi’ they had to read. Preet and Olivia were usually joined at the hip in the class but the girls were separated for this particular study session. Olivia was put with George and Preet with Fred as a means of keeping pranks and jokes at a minimum. 

Preet and Fred began their discussion with an argument but after several snarky comments, they reached a truce. The two had next to no idea what they were doing as they scanned the textbook pages. Fungi were not the most interesting magical specimen, even when they were capable of screaming.

George considered himself extremely lucky to be paired with Olivia because she really was amazing when it came to plants. Of course, she made a point to tease him over her new haircut but he made the effort to tell her it looked okay, if not ever so slightly uneven. “So, are these ones poisonous? Or edible?” George was referring to the deformed, tiny mushroom-like plant that was illustrated in the book and in the pot on their table.

“Um, let’s see. These ones are mostly for potions, like medical ones. They’re called ‘Oclamire’, named after the lady that did the most research on them, Alis Oclamire. They can be used in anaesthetic brews but when consumed alone they will give you really horrible breath. That’s quite cool, I guess the bad breath thing plays into the anaesthetic like the smell knocks you out from the inside out.” Olivia soon noticed that she was rambling about nothing relevant and cut herself off, “Oh. Sorry. So yeah, they are edible and not poisonous.” She muttered her apology and became very interested in the burnt end of her ponytail.

“Wicked! Where do you think they grow? They would be great for putting in Percy’s dinner so he finally shuts up for five minutes.” George grinned as he moved closer to the textbook so he could read more about the fungi. “What? This stuff is like a goldmine for making Percy’s life a bit more difficult.” Olivia was surprised at George taking a shine to academics in his own mischievous way. The pair continued to take notes about their plant specimen, Olivia essentially becoming George’s teacher by that point since he rarely listened to Professor Sprout. The young witch realised that she enjoyed being a tutor of some sort to George since he was engaged with what she was talking about. He did try to hatch a plan to pocket some of the fungi and slip it into his brother’s dinner that evening but Olivia would swat his hand away as she focused on her notes.

The class came to an end faster than Olivia would have liked. She was having so much fun in the greenhouse that day and she did not want to leave just yet. Her fondness for the Weasley boy had become even more evident over some mushrooms and she was glad that she could make the subject a bit more interesting. Preet and Fred had even put their heads together and taken a wealth of fairly cohesive notes - accompanied by a variety of doodles of the plants but in monster forms. 

“What do you have next then? I’ve got Charms. I hope Flitwick doesn’t give me another lecture about “wasted potential”.” George had mentioned the several lectures that he and Fred had received from a variety of professors about them “being too clever for their own good”. Olivia failed to see what was so bad about being technically praised in their first year but then she realised that it must have been in addition to detention because of their pyrotechnics.

“Miss McLaren, a quick word before you head off.” Professor Sprout cut into Olivia and George’s chat as she was collecting the student’s plant pots. “Will only take a minute.”

“I’ll see you later on, Olivia. Bye!” George was already waving at her and walking off to catch up with Fred - and Preet. It seemed that she and Fred had truly formed a civil alliance, maybe even a friendship. The greenhouse was empty apart from Olivia and her professor, who offered her a stool to sit on beside the workbench in the middle of the room.

“Right, then. I noticed today that Mr Weasley and yourself did some brilliant work and I’ll be honest that this is the most engaged I have seen that boy since he started here. I don’t want to force you into anything but I wanted to ask if you would consider a little bit of tutoring?” Professor Sprout spoke cheerfully to the young girl, her round face displayed her genuine happiness that George had done some very good work. “Oh, and if you could help his brother too that would also be wonderful. I noticed that you three seem to be friendly. I must say, seeing those two listen to such a little lady is rather amusing.” Sprout really did adore Olivia’s love for her subject and she hoped that this could be shared with the other first years. Olivia was surprised by the request, she did not know what she had expected from the professor.

“I didn’t think I was all that good with the magic side of plants but thank you so much, professor. I think today was a bit of a one-off for Fred and George but I can definitely try to talk to them about it. One of my other mates, Preet, asked me to help her too so I could get a little group going.” Olivia was used to being asked by people in school for homework help but this was different. This was her teacher believing that she could be a star student and spread her interests with others. She would only tutor those she considered friends, of course. 

As Olivia made her way to her Transfiguration class she could not help but have a slight skip in her step. She already had a teacher that saw great potential in her, and it was her Herbology professor. The greenhouses had been just like how her mother had described them and more, she felt at ease inside the bright glass walls. The sheer number of plant pots she had noticed had made her jaw drop as she remembered her measly seven hand-painted ones back home. 

Her mind continued to wander back to the tutoring proposal. She tried to convince herself that her time paired with George had been a one-off because he knew he could use the plant for a prank. However, he had asked her questions about their work and had drawn a surprisingly good sketch of the fungi in the pot. She was reminded of her conversation with the twins in the Flourish and Blotts’ Herbology section. They were by no means stupid boys and she was sure that she could help to prove that to their professors. 

Olivia was to become a tutor and only just in her first year. She would have to write to her father immediately. 

*  
Dear Dad

Hi, and I hope you’re doing alright without me around. It’s been weird not having you around when I get up in the morning and making food in the kitchen. The food here is something else though. It’s like a ‘breakfast-dinner’ every morning but they don’t do the grilled tomatoes as well as you do. 

So, I have some big news. My herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, asked me to be a tutor for some people in my class today because I’m one of the best in the class. ME! Mental, isn’t it? I told Monty but he wasn’t that interested until I fed him but I know you’ll be as excited as I am. I’m going to be working with the Weasley twins and Scott and Preet who I told you about. The two I sat with on the train. 

I was with George in Herbology today and he actually did a lot of good work, never thought I would see the day with how he talks about school. He’s really good at drawing too which was surprising. I’ve made it my mission to get him to like at least one class and get at least one good grade when exams come around. That’s not for a while now so I hope I’m still friends with him by then but what’s not to like about me, I mean really?

Everything else is going well at school. Preet wanted me to say that she can’t wait to meet you from the stories I’ve told her too! 

I love you and tell Mrs Figg hi 

Olivia x

*

Dear Livy

You’ve been away for a few weeks and you’re already a teacher at the place?! I’m very proud of you but you’re overtaking your old dad in worldly experience. 

Professor Sprout actually sent me a letter a few days ago saying how great you’ve been to teach. She said, “her interest in flora is so refreshing given how young she and I can see her going very far in both Herbology and Potions.” What more could a dad ask to hear from his girl’s school? 

I’m really happy that you seem to have a good group of friends up there and that you are still keeping up with the Weasley boys. Arthur’s been telling me all sorts about those two so you’ve definitely got your work cut out for you. They both seem to listen to you more than their own mother though, so I have no worries that you’ll whip them into shape.

Hate to sound like an old bitty but that’s quite the length piece on George Weasley, isn’t it? 

You’ll be glaring at me saying that but I couldn’t resist, sorry x

I’m missing you about as much as I knew I would but I’m getting by alright. It’s just been really quiet in the flat which I’m not a big fan of so the record player has been spinning 24/7. 

I promise that I am okay though so don’t go worrying.

I love you so much Livy and Mrs Figg hopes you’re having a good time away.

Dad x


	6. Professor McLaren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herbology study group meets once again.

“Right so, this one is Devil’s Snare? Pretty wicked that it basically has a mind of its own, isn’t it?” Fred said as he nudged Scott, he really did enjoy annoying Scott at every opportunity. The blue-eyed boy’s stiff nod and roll of his eyes soon became muscle memory after having been around the Weasley twins and Preet for several months. 

“Fred, it can kill you.” Olivia countered. She found herself often giving Fred a face that was an exaggeration of disapproval. She knew the boy was just trying to be funny but someone had to try to keep him in line. The face often broke with laughter though. Olivia had an awful poker face. 

She turned back to her own homework assignment when Fred returned to the Devil’s Snare chapter she had given him to pique his interest. The students had been asked to write a short essay about the properties and applications of mandrakes as they were very common plants in the wizarding world. The screaming little cretins were Olivia’s least favourite plant she had encountered after hearing them. Scott had dramatically passed out from their shrieking when their class first studied them though. That had been bloody brilliant.

“Livy, did I label this diagram of it right? I keep getting stuck on the mandrake one you gave me.” Preet said as she waved her parchment at Olivia’s shaggy, braided hair. She got no response. “McLaren?” Still nothing.

“Livy,” George said a bit louder than normal as Scott kicked the leg of her library chair. 

“Yeah? George, what do you need? Scott stop being a pest.” Olivia answered, swatting at Scott who was trying to tickle her face with his quill. 

“Of course, you listen to him and not your housemate,” Preet muttered quietly enough that only Fred heard her. The two shared a devilish smirk. “I asked if you could check my diagram but you only listen to George clearly.” Preet found great amusement in teasing Olivia about her friendship with the boy. She knew Olivia did not pay any attention to boys in that capacity but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

“Preet, shut up. She has more taste than that.” Scott said as he swung an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. The poor girl could not help but turn bright red, she was the teacher and she could not command the respect of her students. Shameful.

“Oi, what does that mean?!” George was not helping the situation at all and Olivia could have been crushed by some Devil’s Snare and be perfectly happy. Fred and Preet kept their smirks etched on their faces. Merlin’s Beard, their friendship was going to be a safety hazard as the years went on. 

“Not really girly crush material, now are you?” Scott retorted, his eyes still scanning his homework. If he had lifted his head though, he would not have missed the distinct blush making its way across George’s freckled face. The bluntness of Scott’s comment led to Fred and Preet falling into a fit of loud sniggers, Olivia’s resolve continuing to crumble at her embarrassment. They were just mates, her and George. He was lovely but not in that way. 

The chaotic study session was cut short by the twins racing off with Lee Jordan after he told them that he had seen Mrs Norris resting in the courtyard. They did have a distinct disdain for that cat. Preet, Scott and Olivia continued on with their work and chatted about a variety of mundane topics. 

“Olivia?” Scott asked, closing his textbook. “Why did you agree to help everyone with Herbology stuff?” Those piercing eyes had her pinned to the conversation whether she wanted to talk about it or not. 

“Well, I like the class, a lot, as you two know. Professor Sprout asked me to help George first after that class about the fungi. She said that I was good at helping others ‘engage with the class better’.” Olivia still felt a sense of pride over being asked specifically to be the class tutor. “She asked me to help Fred too and I guess it just snowballed from there. Obviously, I’d help you two as well but she asked about those two in particular. It makes my life a bit easier being friends with them since our dads are friends and it means I don’t get another haircut via firework.” Olivia sniggered as she remembered the boys horrified faces after the hair incident.

“Wow, I thought Sprout had forced you into it or something. Aren’t you just a lovely lady, Liv.” Scott smiled sincerely at the slightly dishevelled girl. He had come to get to know Olivia very well throughout their first year. The two had begun to consider each like the siblings they never had. They both shared a passion for Potions but not so much admiration for their teacher. Professor Snape often left the two to their work, though, since they were deemed as “adequately competent” in his words. 

“Absolute angel from heaven, I know.” Olivia giggled quietly. Madam Pince was making her hawk-like rounds between the bookcases and Olivia could do without a lecture from the bitter librarian. 

“Can you look at my diagram now? Lover boy isn’t around so no excuses.” Preet finally chimed in, continuing to wave her Mandrake sketch in her friend-teacher’s face. She just had to call George that god awful nickname, Olivia thought as she snatched the homework. As it turned out, Herbology was not Preet’s subject. Not at all. However, what were friends for if not to help drag each other towards passing grades?

*

First year had indeed been the eye-opening experience that Olivia had hoped for. She had, of course, dealt with the occasional bully throwing insults about her ‘muggle-ness’ or about her dorky appearance; her slightly protruding front teeth being prime targets. The comments were water off a duck's back in reality since she had dealt with a lot worse. 

Olivia had found more than just that one mate to keep her company like she had whispered to her mother that night. She had a raven-haired chatterbox, a sarcastic beanpole of a boy and two fiery-haired masterminds as her friends and that truly warmed her heart. 

She could not possibly have fit all of her first year into her letters and so Stanley would be getting an ear full when she arrived home.


	7. Ottery Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, we arrive in the summer of 1991.

The Summer of 1991 was a very strange beginning to third year. And yet, it would become a particularly important memory for young Olivia.

Stanley had allowed Olivia to go and stay at The Burrow for a few days before heading to Hogwarts. He had to schedule several keg shipments for September 1st but thankfully Arthur and Molly had offered to see Olivia off along with their children. It was going to be Ron’s first year at Hogwarts so it was a big day and the more the merrier, as they said.

The McLaren’s were going to be making their way to the Weasley’s house in a very odd way for them. Arthur had arrived at the pub early in the morning to collect the father-daughter duo. The Black Hare would not be opening its doors to its adoring pensioner patrons until six o’clock that evening so Stanley was using Olivia’s drop off as a means of finally seeing The Burrow for himself. He had made a point to make sure that he and Olivia was dressed a tad nicer than normal, the girl did not know why it mattered since the Weasley’s were close family friends by that point. He argued that it was just the polite thing to do but Olivia was not buying it as she helped her father pick out a nice floral shirt to wear. Olivia was not against dressing a touch fancier every now and then, she really liked the lilac sundress she was wearing, it had pockets and a very nice swishy skirt. She was against the fact that Fred and George would tease her for the dress. 

“Morning, Stan. Morning, Olivia, my dear. All packed and ready to head off?” Arthur greeted, the man always had a spring in his step and Olivia could not hold back a bright grin. 

“Morning, Weasley! Of course, you’d be up and sorted before the birds.” Stanley chuckled as he shared a small hug with Mr Weasley. 

Since that faithful day in Diagon Alley, Arthur Weasley and Stanley McLaren had become very good friends, enthusiastically bonding over their love for tinkering and magical versus muggle culture. The paternal friendship had made Olivia’s own fondness for the redhead family all the more evident. She was still determined to get Fred and George to prove that they were not ‘wasted potential’, this having turned into a close friendship with the boys and a free pass from most of their pranks. Her opinion of Percy had remained fairly neutral since he seemed like a right stick in the mud but he was a prefect after all. Charlie had been a fleeting meeting for Olivia since he was a few years older but the two had shared the occasional conversation about the how the twins were doing. Charlie was a very good older brother. Olivia was yet to meet the youngest Weasleys, Ron and Ginny, but that would change in the next few days.

“Nice to see you again, Mr Weasley. Thank you for letting me come stay before school starts.” Olivia beamed. She had never had a sleepover at a friend’s house before so she was incredibly excited. Molly had even asked her to help around their garden, their magic garden. However, this would be another drawback of the dress.

“You can call me Arthur, Olivia. No need to be all formal, you’re basically part of the family now.” Arthur embraced the girl in a quick hug before he turned back to her father who was double-checking all of Olivia’s bags. She did not think she had reached such an intimate point with the Weasley family but it made her giddy to know that they thought as highly of her as she did them. “Right! For ease, I’m going to apparate to get you to The Burrow. It can be a mighty nasty feeling when you first do it but it’s quick and efficient. Oh! I’ll send off your things first though.” With a quick wand wave, Olivia’s belongings disappeared from where they were stacked against the wooden bar. The disgruntled noise from Monty, something between a meow and a yawn, had been a very fitting reaction from him before he was transported off to Devon. Olivia hoped it was not too much trouble for the Weasley’s that she was bringing extra gardening gear to school. 

Apparition was certainly an experience and a foul one at that. Olivia would compare it to being stuffed into a straw and abruptly being shot out. Her and Mr Weasley arrived in front of a tall, mismatched house with the warm Devon sun beating down on it. However, Olivia immediately dashed towards the tall grass surrounding the home and emptied the contents of her stomach. Apparition was diabolical. “Should have warned you about nausea, sorry dear.” Arthur cooed, rubbing a hand on the young witch’s back as she heaved for a few moments longer. 

“Nah, I’m totally fine. Must have been my toast this morning.” Olivia sniggered shakily. Thankfully, her twisty dark brown hair had remained vomit free as she stood up and fully admired the Weasley home. The house was an odd structure, to say the least. The base was a simple white bungalow with wooden panelling, but then as one’s eyes moved up it became three houses mysteriously woven together. Olivia was a big fan, it was very fitting for the Weasley’s and she could already imagine what the interior would hold.

“Good Morning, Lady McLaren!” Two voices hollered from a small window on the tall section of the house. The twins were hanging out of the small window, waving their lanky arms wildly to get her attention. 

“Hi, Gred! Hi, Forge!” Olivia called back, waving her arms in a similar fashion to the boys. The teenagers had been going back and forth with owls throughout the summer holidays so Olivia was ecstatic to finally get to see them again. The letters from them were always written in neat-ish handwriting that Olivia knew was George’s - Fred’s handwriting was only legible to her on a good day. Over the past two years, Olivia noticed that her friendship with each twin was different. Equally as strong but different. 

She and Fred made fun of each other every second sentence and he was much more forward with physical contact; he would hug her or lift her up quite often because he knew it annoyed her. They were like siblings, that’s what many had said. Olivia did not deny this dynamic, if anything she welcomed it since she was an only child. Fred and Olivia were like a fuse and a match; perfect harmony and perfect chaos all at once.

However, Olivia and George had a friendship that was based on conversation, both meaningful and just plain fun. Of course, the snark and bickering was still there as it was with Fred but George knew where to draw the line much sooner. George had been the twin that tried harder during their herbology tutoring sessions and this made Olivia strangely happy. He was not good at Herbology, he seemed awful at it, quite frankly, but he still tried. During their second year, Olivia had found herself in the unfortunate situation of crossing paths with George while he was on the run from a prefect. The two had hidden near the Ravenclaw common room and narrowly escaped capture since Peeves had decided to dump ice cold water over the prefect. Olivia had not meant to laugh so hard but the adrenaline high she was riding was too good. While she and George had not spoken much that night, she felt closer with him than she did with Fred after running through the halls. Something about him making sure she got back to her common room in one piece made her feel fuzzy inside. A confusing feeling but not an entirely unwelcomed one.

Mr Weasley motioned for Olivia to head inside the house. He still had to go collect her father and Olivia could imagine his stomach would not take too kindly to apparition either. The first thing that greeted the young girl upon entering the house was the smell of breakfast food. It was simply heavenly. 

“Olivia! Hello, my dear. It’s fantastic to see you and looking so grown up.” Molly pulled the small girl into a warm embrace before admiring the girl’s dress. “Purple is a lovely colour on you. Listen to me rambling on, you must be starving after apparating for the first time.” The girl was herded into the small kitchen of the house. It was perfectly cosy and nothing matched. The long table in the middle of the room had a number of different chairs around it and Olivia was unsure which one she would be allowed to take. Designated chairs were a thing in her house and that was only with two people so she could only imagine what it was like for seven people. “You can take that green one with the lumpy cushion on it, Olivia.” Mrs Weasley definitely had eyes in the back of her head, Olivia was now convinced. 

Suddenly, several pairs of feet could be heard stomping around above her. Honestly, she had expected to hear an explosion or two. Percy was the first downstairs, he gave a polite nod to Olivia before taking his seat and looking over the newspaper. A boy a few years younger than her was the next redhead to make an appearance. So, this was ‘Ickle Ron’, Olivia thought “You’re Fred and George’s friend, aren’t you?” Ron asked, taking the seat next to Olivia. 

“She has a name, Ron.” Molly quipped at her son.

“You should know it given how much he doesn’t shut up.” Percy mumbled into his mug of tea. The boy had clearly perfected making comments that passed by his mother’s radar. But who did not shut up and about what? 

Olivia was about to properly introduce herself to Ron before it sounded. The fated explosion sounded. Finally. 

“WELCOME” had formed in the air in front of the gunpowder dusted boys. The firework letter crackled in hues of orange and red before quickly disappeared into the air. 

“Boys! No fireworks in the kitchen!” Molly howled. Olivia began to clap her hands at her friends as they sat at the table. They got the smile they had wanted out of it, so a scolding from Molly was well worth it. 

*

Stanley arrived soon after the rest of the family had sat down at the table. He and Arthur had commandeered the kitchen table following breakfast, the men were studying Mrs McLaren’s old record player and that morning’s muggle newspaper. 

Mrs Weasley had a mile-long list of things that needed doing around the house and the children would most definitely be helping. Firstly, the garden desperately needed to be de-gnomed and manure needed to be put down for the bushes. Olivia had already dashed off to change from her light sundress into an old blue t-shirt and some well-worn denim shorts, the outfit was her summer gardening gear. The girl had no idea what Molly had meant about gnomes but surely the twins and Ron would be glad to show her. 

The cosy August sun illuminated the Weasley’s fairly large garden of wildflowers, odd bushes and the occasional crop. The garden even had a small pond surrounded by rocks and wispy water flora. Olivia planned to stay out there until she was sunburnt. The four youngest Weasley siblings had eventually caught up to her as she wandered around in awe at their garden, “It’s not that amazing, it’s just a load of messy plants that we always need to sort.” Ron grumbled as he heaved a full watering can in his hands. 

“Ron, I’ll be honest with you, I will do the garden stuff you don’t want to. Free of charge.” Olivia offered, she could tell that Ron was more interested in thinking about Hogwarts than doing chores. She had been the same, after all, so she could not blame him. Ron was also clearly trying to act cool in front of his brothers and little sister. 

“Mum’ll get angry if you go back in, Ron. Just go water the pond or something.” Ginny sniggered. The others could not hold back their own giggles as Ron gapped at his sister’s snark, soon trudging over to the pond. “Olivia? Can I be in charge of the flowers? Me and mum planted them, and I want to make sure they’re alright.” Ginny asked eagerly. The older girl grinned and nodded happily, watching the littlest redhead speed off towards some peculiar orange flowers.

“What department are we in charge of then, mum?” Fred questioned. He was just asking for the worse job in the garden at that point and Olivia would gladly give him it.

“You’re on chucking gnome duty, Frederick. Off you go before they bite your sister.” Olivia’s voice dripped in smugness as Fred raced off to catch the gnome that was, indeed, making its way towards Ginny. “You, however, Georgie. You’re lifting heavy things for me and my frail girly arms.” Olivia commanded, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards to jute sacks of manure that Molly had taken from the shed. She did not doubt that she could move the sacks herself but it would simply be more efficient to get George to do it. Besides, she had missed him quite a bit. Letters from him – which had been any letter with both his and Fred’s names on it – were not the same as an actual conversation. 

“I’d hardly say you’re frail. You look stronger than Ron if I’m honest.” George countered, gesturing to all of her as they both grabbed a sack. Olivia knew what he meant but that did not mean she liked that he brought it up. She was only thirteen years old and was already built with lanky muscle from years of hiking gardening equipment around by herself. It did not help that she was also still short while George had shot up like a weed. “Not that that’s a bad thing! I meant it in a nice way. Like you’re strong for a girl!” The boy was digging his own grave as Olivia looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. 

“I know. You’re just jealous that I could maybe be a better beater than you.” Olivia laughed, rolling her eyes and starting towards the rows of bushes. The comment about his quidditch reputation caused George’s eyes to narrow at the smirking gremlin of a girl. “Could definitely get a good swing with this arm strength. Come on, keep up!” With that, Olivia hauled the sack onto her back and made her way back to the garden. She made sure to boot the gnome heading for Ron as she marched past. George quickly jogged to keep up with her but the scent of manure was making him feel rather green. The smell mixed with the butterflies fluttering in his stomach was confusing but he quickly brushed it off as nausea.

Each of the children worked away merrily at their garden duties; Ginny was watering her flowers and trimming weeds while Ron and Fred had made a contest out of launching gnomes over the garden wall. After moving the sacks, George had gone to join in the gnome throwing tournament but after he won a round, Olivia found him crouched down beside her. His head was tilted as he watched her prune some the wildflowers. “Are those the flowers that make people sick that you told me about?” Well, that had been an unexpected comment.

“Foxglove? Yeah, this is them. Bees really like them though so they’re good to keep around medicinal plants like your mum has here.” Olivia explained. 

“Hm, probably shouldn’t slip one those into Percy’s dinner then. Damn.” George grumbled. Olivia knew he was just kidding though. She hoped. 

“These can kill so that might be a bit extreme, even for you.” 

“Ah, didn’t know that. I don’t think Azkaban via flower poisoning is worth it. I’m too sophisticated for prison.” At that, Olivia snorted loudly. She would often snort at something the twins had say, but now she was mortified. First, the ‘not frail’ observation and now her loud snort, her slightly too big front teeth were likely on full display too. She had not even fully noticed that she started to care so much about these things, her appearance and behaviour around others. She only seemed to care about them around George. The young girl shook off the odd wave of insecurity and continued to tend to the bushes. George had now begun to help her by spreading some manure at the roots of them. 

“Sorry about ‘the stronger than Ron’ comment. I don’t think you look like a man.” George said quietly. He could tell that something was bothering her and assumed that the comment on her appearance may have struck a nerve. He had made a similar comment to his great aunt Muriel once and almost did not see the next day. 

“You don’t need to apologise but thank you, Georgie.” Olivia smiled, lightly nudging him in the side playfully. “I don’t think you look like a man either.” 

“Hey! What was that!” George yelled as Olivia took off running. He had deserved the snark but that did not mean he was not going to retaliate. Olivia had made the poor choice to hide behind Ron and use him as a shield from his brother, who was armed with a spade carrying manure. 

“Not a chance! I’m not getting covered in shi-” Ron had started to protest Olivia using him as cover but was cut off by manure hitting him in the chest. The smell hit his long nose immediately and he started retching. 

“Poor timing, Ronald! Sorry!” Olivia called, now sprinting towards Fred and dodging more of George’s manure projectiles. 

“I’m not getting involved in you two’s fights again!” Fred cried, making a run for the garden gate to escape the impending muck war. 

“Ginny, get him!” Olivia yelled from behind the row of bushes near the pond. She pulled Ron down to hide with her too since she knew he would be an incredibly easy target. Olivia was sure she would be the one looking out for Ron while he was at school but she did not mind. He had that same warm Weasley charm but it was hidden under a veil of boyish grumbling - she found the young boy funny yet endearing. While guarding Ron, Olivia caught sight of Ginny basically rugby tackling her brother as he tried to escape the garden. The force of her small body hitting his legs sent him face-first into the dirt and made him a prime victim for George to pelt with dirt clumps. 

Ron and Olivia emerged from their leafy sanctuary to see Ginny sitting on Fred’s back to keep him from getting up while her and George decorated his hair with dirt and flowers. Ron was howling with laughter at his older brother’s furious expression, he saw this as revenge for the years of being a prank test subject. “Ron, shut it!” Fred yelled.

“You look so pretty, Freddie. The daisies really bring out your eyes.” Olivia cackled, leaning on Ron for support as she held her sides. Her laughter was cut short as a wad of dirt was ruffled into her hair. It was not just dirt, it was manure and dirt. Her jaw hung open as she glared up at George’s devilish grin. He took one of the orange flowers that Ginny was using to put in Fred’s hair and placed it on top of Olivia’s muck-caked head. 

“Shouldn’t ever let your guard down.” George teased. Suddenly, a big glob of mud hit his cheek and Olivia’s snort could be heard once again. 

*

George received quite the loud and enraged telling from his mother when she came out and saw the children all caked in mud. Fred had thrown his twin under the bus and said that he and Olivia had started it. Molly’s round face was red with anger as she marched each of them over to the garden hose before they even thought of setting foot in the house. 

The punishments were fair and just, Olivia thought; Ginny was set to hard picking the dried up leaves and flowers from Fred’s hair, Ron was sent off to clean the upstairs bathroom and George was to go and clean up the mess of the garden. Seeing as it was partly her fault that the dirt war had occurred, Olivia asked Molly if she could go and help George. The young witch felt bad that her friend would likely be outside until dinner time plus she wanted to be outside for a little while longer.

The pair decided that moving the heavy sacks again would be best to save for last as they got to cleaning up the muddy frontline. They worked in silence for the majority of their time outside, only nodding to each other about where things should go. It was not an uncomfortable silence, however. It was one that they both enjoyed, just having the friendly company was more than enough under the setting summer sun. Olivia had been rather surprised when she learned that George enjoyed quiet from time to time. He simply did not always feel the need to fill his time with Olivia with conversation, she would have her quiet spells and he respected that. 

“I’m sorry you got in trouble because of me. Your mum won’t be angry at me so you got it for both of us.” Olivia finally spoke, poking George’s back to get his attention. The fact that Molly had called George “silly” had been rattling around in Olivia’s mind for the past half an hour. It was not something she should be so fixated on but she did not like it. He was not a silly boy, far from it in fact. Was hurling muck at their guest the best idea? Not at all, but Olivia knew that that was just how he was. She liked to think of it as grossly resourceful based on some prank materials she had seen him with. The boy had willingly carried eel eyes in his bare hands once, for goodness sake. 

“It’s okay, Livy. You should see my mum when you aren’t around and I start something. That was such a tame telling, I’m almost worried about her, honestly.” George laughed. He had started gathering up the gardening tools Ginny had been tending to the flowers with but now he was looking straight at Olivia. “I know you hate getting into trouble but for me, it’s just funny getting a rise out of other people. But it’s ever so nice of you to care about me so much.” A dirtied, pale hand ruffled Olivia’s hair, messing up her loose ponytail. The smirk on George’s face and the forceful hair ruffle was standard teasing from him, Olivia was so used to it by that point that she just let him do it. However, Olivia could not help but feel the heat rising to her freckled cheeks. George’s face was very close to hers and he would definitely notice if she did not act fast.

“Someone’s got to keep an eye on you – you, idiot.” Olivia retorted, shoving George’s smug face away from her with an extremely forced chuckle. George turned away from her in mock anguish, so hurt by his friend pushing him away in a time of need. The moving performance was cut short by George’s wicked smile cracking from behind his arm.

Olivia’s battered trail boots left the soft, freshly trimmed grass and she let out a growl. Her arms tried to break free from the redheaded idiot’s tight hold on her but her efforts only made him cackle harder. “George Weasley! Get off, you git!” Olivia bellowed.

“I knew you cared about me, Livy! You were just having trouble showing your true feelings, how sweet.” George exclaimed, tightening his grip on Olivia’s torso and starting to spin her around. This boy would be the death of the young witch at this rate. She managed to dig her heel into his shin slightly and it gave her an opening for escaping his vice-like hold. A girlish whine of pain rang out from George as Olivia dashed to pick up Ginny’s small, yellow trowel, holding it out towards him like they were about to enter a duel. They would be if she had anything to do with it, revenge for the spinning was in order.

“En garde, Weasley.” Olivia said in her best French accent. It was reminiscent of a Pink Panther skit but George would never know that. Her ginger opponent scrambled to his feet and grabbed whichever of his little sister’s tool he could get his hands on; he got a hand fork. He was such a lucky git, Olivia thought. 

“Have at you, McLaren!” George chuckled, beginning to lunge not-so-gracefully at Olivia. The duel was not heated, nor careless since the teens were using real and very sharp tools. Metal clanged together and high pitched, giggly threats were thrown around as the two circled the garden. They had initially maintained “proper” fencing stances but their fight soon devolved into something similar to a daring sword fight between two knights. 

This was what Olivia adored about George. He would encourage her to be silly regardless of their age. At thirteen, many kids found themselves trying so desperately to be more grown-up than they were to the point where their youth was no longer fun. But, with George, every minute would be fun and Olivia would never doubt that for a second. 

Times like these were what George loved about Olivia. She seemed like a mousey, green-thumbed swat to most people. But there she was in front of him, about ready to tackle him into the garden pond because he skilfully deflected her attack. She was really just a tiny ball of messy hair, rage and hearty snorts of laughter. George had never really noticed before but Olivia looked a bit like a rabbit when she was angry; her front teeth gnawed at her bottom lip in frustration and her nose kept twitching without her noticing. She was actually rather cute. 

George was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when he felt his body slam onto the wispy grass. Olivia had finally gained the upper hand in the duel by launching her weight at George and sending him tumbling. 

She looked a bit like a rabbit when she was really happy too. Her front teeth were pushed to the front of her bright smile and she bounced into the air in triumph.


	8. Molly's Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Burrow in late August is such a lovely place.

“I forgot that you wouldn’t have heard about him, Livy. He’s already more famous than most and he’s meant to be starting Hogwarts this year.” George spoke in a hushed tone. He, Fred, Olivia and Monty were sitting on the floor in the twins’ bedroom after a particularly hearty dinner. The trio had been discussing plans for their third year in between a snack binge. The topic of a boy named Harry Potter had come up and Olivia found herself out of the magical loop once again. The twins spoke very highly about this mysterious boy who had faced the Dark Lord and lived when he was just a year old. The poor boy would be absolutely swarmed at Hogwarts if he was indeed going to be starting his first year. 

“Bet he’ll be in Gryffindor, too. Don’t get much braver than annihilating You-Know-Who.” Fred beamed. Olivia had noticed that both twins’ house pride had increased greatly since they became part of the Gryffindor quidditch team. The two had not stopped talking about their games for all of their second year, not that Olivia knew about half of what they said to her. Preet soon joined in on the quidditch talk as she had become a Chaser on the Ravenclaw team. Olivia and Scott found that nodding along and smiling when the players smiled was a good way to go about quidditch rants. 

“Why don’t you guys just say his name? It’s all ‘you-know-who’s’ and ‘Dark Lord’ but surely his actual name would be scarier?” Olivia chimed in, scratching Monty’s arched back as she spoke. The girl relied on her magically raised, ‘pure-blood’, friends to explain the underbelly of the world to her. She realised that being raised by a muggle with limited exposure to magic was an obstacle when it came to slightly darker topics. She knew a fair amount about the Dark Lord, an adequate amount for a thirteen-year-old to know, but she had a hard time believing some of it. There was no way that a tiny baby could have survived the killing curse from such a powerful wizard.

“We just don’t say it, dunno why though. Some people say it’s bad luck to say his name. Other people say that his followers might hear you and come steal your soul.” George said, moaning like a ghost as he spoke to try and scare Olivia. She swatted at his hands as they waved in front of her face. Like George could ever be scary. The three teens continued to chat, the twins’ disclosing some details about their prank plans for the year. Mr Filch and Mrs Norris were going to run off their feet (and paws) from what Olivia gathered. 

“Olivia! Your father is heading off now! He’s requesting a hug and a kiss goodbye!” Molly called up the stairs. 

“Livy, you’re old dad is going to be ever so alone!” Stanley yelled, his voice carrying a dramatic wail of sadness. Olivia was glad that twins were so used to how embarrassing her father could be or else she would be mortified. Not to say she was not mortified but it was bearable. Her striped sock clad feet jogged down the stairs and she jumped into her father’s waiting arms. He held onto her tightly, as he always did, and stroked her dark chestnut hair with a warm hand, as he always did. “I’m glad you’re having a lot of fun here, sweet pea. Sad to see you go without me but I think I’ll live with one last hug.” Stanley emphasised his emotional speech with a squeeze into their hug and kiss on the top of his daughter’s head. 

“It’ll be weird not seeing you wave goodbye like I’m going off to a war or something.” Olivia giggled. She buried her rosy, round face into her father’s fleece and grinned. “I promise that I’ll write to you on my first night. Pinky promise.” The two linked fingers and shook their connected hands. The shake made it official, a promise she would not be allowed to break. 

Stanley headed off back to open up The Black Hare with a choir of goodbyes and a pop as Arthur apparated away with him. Molly was busying herself around in the kitchen, she was preparing shepherd’s pie from what Olivia’s nose told her. The young witch wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water but found herself under the motherly, watchful eyes of Mrs Weasley. “Would you mind if I asked you something, Olivia?” Molly said finally.

“Of course, Mrs We- Molly. What’s up?” Olivia replied. She really needed to work on calling the Weasley’s by their first names, but it just felt impolite and that made her nervous. 

“What is it about Fred and George? I’m their mother and I love them both so much, but I’ve known they would be trouble since they were about a week old. You’re a sensible girl, you have a good sense of humour about you, of course, but not quite to the same extent as my boys.” Olivia found herself slightly taken aback by the question. Since her first year, she had been questioned by a number of people as to why she was friends with the infamous jokesters. A Ravenclaw putting up with those two? Ridiculous. 

“I don’t really know why I get along with them so well. If anything I’m more surprised that they wanted to be friends with me. They’re already famous around the school and I’m just known as the Herbology club underling. I suppose they’re both just really lovely boys… charming even.” That last comment had tumbled out of Olivia’s mouth before she could stop it. Molly’s face lit up in an instant as the word “charming” was uttered. She would never hear the end of it if those two found out what she had said. “Please don’t tell them I said that. If they hear that they’re charming then they’ll let it go to their already big heads.”

“Well, you know, people say the devil was rather charming in his own way. But I don’t think you meant it in that way, my dear.” Molly smiled at Olivia, a smile that was knowing and warm. She knew that Olivia adored her boys as much as they seemed to adore her. Molly had noticed, however, that one boy spoke at much greater length about the blushing girl. “I won’t keep this interrogation going on any longer. Off you pop.” Olivia was guided towards the stairs and took them two at a time to reach the twins’ room once again. 

The chat she and Mrs Weasley had in the kitchen continued to play in the back of her mind for the rest of the time she was staying at the Burrow. In between all the daily chatter about Harry Potter’s grand arrival at Hogwarts, Olivia wondered why Mrs Weasley had looked so all-knowing at her comment about the twins. Did their mother know something she did not? The remaining days of the summer holidays played out in a fairly standard fashion. The group of children played quidditch on the makeshift pitch Arthur had built and Olivia soon learned that she was, in fact, terrible at every player position. Her previous bragging of being an effective beater was shot down immediately when she wobbled off her broom while trying to hit a bludger - the bludger then launched itself into George’s gut, winding the poor boy. 

The friendship between Ron and Olivia was an unexpected one, but a budding one nonetheless. She had become protective of the younger boy after hearing stories from him about being the guinea pig for the twins’ pranks since he was around five years old. It was easy to see that Ron had to fight furiously to get even a scrap of attention on even the best days. His oldest brothers were off travelling the world with their jobs, Percy was the preppy perfect prefect, Fred and George were chaos incarnate and Ginny was the only girl as well as the youngest child. Even though Olivia was an only child, she could imagine how hard it was to stand out in the Weasley family. She swore that while she was still at Hogwarts she would keep a watchful yet distant eye on Ronald Weasley.


	9. Northbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all seemed to start from when Monty left the train compartment.

They had ten minutes to get through the barrier and onto the Hogwarts Express and to say Olivia was feeling a tad stressed would be an understatement. She knew that Molly would not allow any of the children to be late or miss the train but the woman was cutting it mighty close. The parade of red hair and small hint of brunette made its way swiftly through King’s Cross Station and towards that dreaded platform barrier. Olivia really did loathe having to sprint at a wall on her way to school. 

“Keep your hair on, Olivia.” Fred teased, nudging Olivia in the back with his luggage trolley. The girl stumbled in her purposeful strides to keep up with Percy. 

“Yeah, are we so bad that you need to run back to Scott and Preet?” George asked, sniffling dramatically to convey how hurt he was at her power walking. The boys’ teasing only made Olivia walk faster ahead of them, almost running Percy over in the process. The newly appointed prefect glared at the girl before he came to a stop at the mouth of the barrier. There was a bespectacled, skinny little boy in an unfortunately oversized flannel shirt standing there; he was looking awestruck, panicked and ecstatic all at once. Olivia was about to make a comment to Molly about the lost boy with the very beautiful snowy owl but she was in the midst of one of Fred and George’s identity deceptions.

“I’m only joking. I am Fred.” The two boys were going to give their mother high blood pressure in no time. Fred shot off through the barrier with a smirk etched on his features. George quickly followed his brother, waving for Olivia to follow close behind them so she would keep up. 

“Um, Molly. That little boy looks magic and really lost. Bye!” Olivia indicated, dashing off to go find her friends. Once she was on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, her eyes darted around for either of the lanky redheads. A solid mass slammed into the small girl’s back as she moved further onto the platform. A long black braid fell onto her shoulder and Olivia immediately spun on her heels to embrace her best friend. 

“Hi! I’ve missed you so so much, Liv. How was staying at the Weasley’s? You don’t have any burns, do you?” Preet blathered, giving her friend a quick inspection for firework-related injury. Olivia giggled as her face was squished and she embraced Preet’s tall figure once again. 

“I’m flame-resistant at this point, don’t worry.” She sniggered. Preet was another person in Olivia’s life that had started to go through a growth spurt with the girl now having a good three or four inches on Olivia. Preet lurched forward suddenly, stumbling against Olivia as Fred swung an arm around the tall girl’s shoulders. 

“Good morning, Bhatia! It’s been such a long holiday, look how tall you’ve gotten.” Fred said, patting Preet on the head, ruffling her hair as he did so. The look on her face communicated, “stop if you want to keep that hand” but that was not going to stop Fred Weasley. The boy was thrown off of Preet with a low grunt as he collided against his twin brother. 

“We can’t take you anywhere, you tosser.” George laughed, dragging Fred off back to their mother who was waving to them like a madwoman. Olivia knew she had better follow but she wanted to catch up with Preet and find Scott. 

“Don’t let me stop you going to say goodbye to her. I need to go hug my parents and be lectured by them before we go anyway.” Preet shuffled off to go back to her family. Her father was an extremely well put together man in a dark pinstriped suit and his hair was neatly gelled back. Her mother was rather tall and had an evident elegance about her, it mixed nicely with her motherly nature towards her young daughter. Olivia had been shocked when she learned that Preet was the daughter of a Ministry official and a St Mungo’s psychiatric healer. 

Following a tight and cosy hug from Molly, Olivia heard a hushed voice against her ear, “Please keep an eye on my boys again, dear.” Mrs Weasley’s trust in Olivia was moving given that the girl was only thirteen. Molly saw a caring spirit in the young girl, evidenced by her treatment of the twins. They often spoke about how Olivia rarely got angry at them for their pranks but rather she asked them about the jokes and their efforts. Over the summer, Molly had noticed that Olivia had extended the same kindness to Ron. Ron, who was always at odds to be noticed within the family, Molly knew this and hated that her son felt that way. But, this unassuming brunette girl with a toothy grin had asked the youngest boy about his Chudley Cannons posters and his eyes had simply lit up. 

“I’ll certainly try. I can promise with Ron but those other two are a liability at best.” Olivia laughed as she pulled away from Mrs Weasley. 

*

It had become a tradition for Olivia and the twins to briefly part ways once they were on the Hogwarts Express. The boys would race off to go find Lee Jordan while Olivia would find the compartment housing Preet and Scott. News had spread that Lee had brought a new tarantula as his school pet so the twins disappeared faster than usual to get a good look at the creepy, crawling creature. This meant that Olivia was left with Ron, who was clearly nervous but putting on a brave face. 

“I’m gonna go off and find other first years, is that okay?” Ron asked, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. Olivia really could not help the look of pity she must have been shooting the young redhead.

“You don’t need to ask, Ron. Go off and start chatting with people. Trust me, you’ll be absolutely fine. If I could make mates on the first train journey then you’ll be golden.” Olivia replied. She gave Ron a reassuring squeeze on the arm and a cheerful grin. The girl started to make her way off to find her friends before turning back to Ron quickly. “If you do have any trouble though, come find me, okay?” Ron responded with a quick salute and a small smile before he marched off down the train. 

Olivia quickly settled into the compartment and the snarky trio was completed once again. In addition to Preet, Scott had also decided to hit a growth spurt and appeared to be the same height as Fred and George. Olivia disgruntledly sighed when he had stood up to hug her. “Lanky prat” she had muttered into his jumper. 

“My lovely little Monty has come back to me!” The grey feline slinked from his carrier and onto Preet’s denim covered lap. The tall girl was happy to finally have some companionship again since her two friends were gushing over a book about magical medicinal plants. “You’ll always love me, right?” Monty chose that moment to left the compartment, not stopping to look back at a heartbroken Preet. 

“God, you’re as bad as Fred with him.” Olivia sighed, passing her book to Scott and making her way to go find her pet. The cat was becoming more of a handful as he got older, she swore he was becoming too comfortable with being coddled. 

“We were just starting the bit about dockan leaves! Preet, why!” Scott griped. His knowledge of medical plants would have to improve that year as he was looking to be a hospital wing volunteer and he figured that Olivia was the best person to go to. But, Preet and her cat obsession had to put a spanner in the works yet again. 

Another “civil debate” roared from the compartment as Olivia started down the train corridor. As much as she adored her friends, they were only getting more vicious with their bickering as they got older. Scott had even developed a newfound love for swearing, “shit” being a particular favourite. The train was not much quieter as Olivia made her way towards the area housing the hoard of first years. She was beginning to think that Monty had taken off this way for the amount of affection he could garner from the young students. 

“Blimey, you are him, aren’t you?” Fred questioned, he and George hanging into one of the first year compartments with wide eyes. They were already off scoping out new test subjects, Olivia thought with a roll of her eyes. She had finally located her pet as she spotted Monty coiling his way around George’s trouser leg, trying to grab the attention of his favourite Weasley. 

“Who are you two bothering now?” Olivia asked, the boys jumping slightly as they had not noticed her. She decided to leave Monty to George in order to be nosy about the scene she was seeing, the grey cat was already cuddling up in George’s arms anyways. “Yay, Ron you made a friend!” Olivia gushed, “that wasn’t meant to sound sarcastic, by the way.” Ron had found that little boy with the glasses. 

“He’s not just a friend. He’s Harry Potter, that boy we told you all about!” Fred beamed.

“Bit weird to be this excited over an eleven year old but okay, Freddie. Hi, Harry, I’m Olivia.” Olivia narrowly avoided an elbow to the ribs from Fred for her sass.

“O-oh, hello. It’s nice to meet you, Olivia.” Harry had a rather quiet voice. Honestly, she had expected him to be quite shy given his reputation while others, namely the twins, had clearly assumed that he would be more boisterous.

“She’s basically like my big sister since she’s mates with Fred and George here. Better to have her than these two or perfect Percy, if I’m honest.” Ron griped. Olivia was washed with a wave of warmth at Ron’s admiring words towards her. She was silently giddy to be higher in Ron’s regard than his brothers.

“Certainly hope she’s not a sister, for someone’s sake.” Fred mumbled. He had certainly made a habit of speaking under his breath then denying that he had ever uttered a word. Olivia only caught the odd mumble so it was never enough to piece together what comment the boy was making.

“Well, Harry. I’ll tell you what I did to Ronald dearest, if you need any help with something come and find me. I’m a Ravenclaw so look for the blue. Or the clingy cat.” Olivia attempted to pry Monty from George’s grasp so she could get him back to his true mother, Preet. Monty was definitely glaring at his owner as he slowly sauntered back to the trio’s compartment. He was such an ungrateful brat on the first day of school. 

Turning on her heels and wandering back up the train with Monty, Olivia was stopped by one of the twins, George. “How did you just offer help to him? He’s like the most powerful person on this train, I think.” George’s speech was frantic, a mixture of very curious and very excited.

“Dunno, he’s still an eleven year old boy so it’s not like he’s going to know everything. Probably still needs help with a lot of stuff by the looks of him.” Olivia retorted. Was everyone simply glossing over how small Harry was and how mousey his demeanour was?

“But-but he’s him!” George had begun to shake the small girl by her shoulders to emphasise his point. It was not working. “You really are something else, Livy. Oh and thanks for helping Ron by the way. Sorry that you’ve just been stuck with him but mum thinks we’ll torture him or something. So, thank you.” The shaking had ceased and replaced by George awkwardly scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact.

“Just don’t make his first year embarrassing okay? Not everyone has the same reactions to the pranks as I do, remember. Plus I’ll tell your mum if Ron gets upset.” Molly Weasley was the greatest threat against the twins and Olivia knew this, and she would abuse the power wholeheartedly. George visibly shivered at the haunting threat and quickly promised that he and Fred would keep the harassment of ‘Ickle Ron’ to a dull roar. Percy was to get the extra torture and Olivia was absolutely fine with that deal. Maybe the stick that was firmly lodged up his arse would finally ease that year.


	10. Summer Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night back is always the easiest.

Yet another Weasley had been sorted into Gryffindor, along with an impressive amount of the new students. The house now had Harry Potter too and their table made sure that everyone was made well aware of the fact. Ravenclaw welcomed a couple new additions that evening but Olivia did not get the chance to welcome them warmly before Preet burst into a rant about quidditch team gossip. Roger Davies was being a massive “kiss-ass” towards the captain over the summer holidays, apparently.  
The third year girls were in their comfiest pyjamas within seconds of entering their dormitory for the new year. Olivia’s bed had been designated as the venue for the her and Preet’s late night catch up and chocolate binge. Unfortunately for Preet’s small wizard trading card collection, the chocolate frogs she had brought only had four different cards.

“Ugh! I’ve gotten three Dumbledore’s lately. Stupid chocolate.” Preet grumbled, shoving a large chunk of chocolate into her mouth.

“Just start a collection of Dumbledore ones maybe? Oh you never said how you’re summer went? How was going to India for a few weeks, that must have been wicked.” Olivia grinned. The Bhatia family had holidayed in Mumbai over the summer, visiting Preet’s grandparents on her mother’s side. The family had been so kind as to offer Olivia the opportunity to come along with them after Preet’s desperate begging. But, the microwavable pies and salted nuts at The Black Hare were Olivia’s responsibility over her holidays, so she had to decline. Secretly though, she had been more than happy with her jaunt to Devon.

“It was a lot funner than I thought it was gonna be, that’s for sure. My grandmother used to be a professor at a school there so now that I’m older she’s been more open to talk about her old work stuff. You know, she used to be the Charms professor. She ran the duelling club too.” Preet gushed, the girl’s admiration for her grandmother becoming infectious as Olivia hung on her every word. “She taught me this one charm that’s a bit weird but I’m thinking it could be useful against Scott or Fred or something.” The fluffy, green pyjama clad girl took one the chocolate frogs from Olivia’s bed and held it out in her palm, pointing her wand at its back. “Duro.”  
The frog stilled, it’s exterior soon transforming into solid stone. 

“That’s amazing! Is it still alive under there? Does it wear off? Flitwick is going to lose his mind after seeing this type of thing, Preet.” Olivia said excitedly. She had never taken to Charms as a subject but she had always found it interesting. The hardening charm was something she assumed they would be learning that year but Preet, as usual, was ahead of the curve. Preet had a large smile etched on her face at her successful stone work, even she was surprised that it had worked on the first try. 

“You think Weasley would get on at me if I made all his fireworks into pretty little pebbles?” The smile had morphed into a sneaky smirk, large brown eyes glinting with mischief. As much as she did not wish to admit it, Preet had taken to the Weasleys’ mischievous ways in her own fashion. She enjoyed getting a rise out of others but she was smart enough to be gone before she could get caught. Her skills in charms were equal to that of Fred and their rivalry was a well-known fact throughout their year group.

“They’ve brought more of those bloody firecrackers this year so please do.” Olivia laughed. The sheer amount of prank information that she had been privy to was excellent material for blackmail but she was going to keep at least a few things to herself. The boys had concocted a variety of their own joke supplies over the summer; enchanted dyes, an improvement on existing dung bombs and fireworks that meowed like a cat when they set off. They had told Olivia that this was just the beginning of the “Weasley Empire”, to which she had giggled but she did believe in them at least a tiny bit.

“Speaking of those lovely lads, how was your summer?” Preet wiggled her thick eyebrows and moved closer to her friend. 

“You’re awful. I had a really nice time at theirs actually. I spent most of my time with the whole ginger herd so your eyebrows can stop now.” It was partly the truth. Olivia found that she adored each of the Weasley siblings and the family had been such a big help for her and her father. She never took much notice to boys in any capacity outside of friendship or them being annoying but now that she was thirteen, her mind was slowly changing. Maybe it was the 80s teen movies she had watched or maybe it was just growing up but Olivia knew that she liked George more than Fred. Preet, ever the observant girl, had caught onto this immediately at the end of their second year. While she also did not understand the full extent of the situation – they had just become teenagers, after all – Preet knew that Olivia and George were different around each other. He was careful around her, like she would break if he even brushed passed her. He was calmer around her, often berating Fred and Preet for being so loud while Olivia was working or something. He still bothered the smaller girl to no end but it was just different.

“Fine, fine. Monty, you’ll need to give me the insider info when she passes out.” The girls could swear that Monty’s usually sleepy face morphed into a cheeky smile as he bobbed his head. 

*

“Right, what the hell is the point of meowing fireworks?” Scott had been dipping in and out of the conversation happening in the boys dormitory between the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. They were talking about joke stuff and he was not all that interested but when the fireworks were broken out, he just had to lend the discussion an ear.

“Well, thank you for finally joining us, Reeves. Thought you’d fallen asleep already.” George said, patting the space beside him on his bed. The three boys had congregated between the twins’ beds and Scott begrudgingly made his way over.

“The point of the meowing fireworks is purely distraction. Mrs Norris only gets distracted by the actual firework bit for a minute but if she thought there was another cat prowling about then we’ve got much more time to leg it.” Fred explained proudly. 

“Thus detention and verbal abuse from Wood over missing practise are avoided.” George added, an equally proud grin on his face.

“That- That’s not actually a terrible plan.” Scott stated with his eyebrows raised in genuine shock. In the time that he had been at Hogwarts, he had learned a great deal about the twin jokesters since they lived in such close proximity. Scott had heard their discussions well into the wee hours of the morning on school nights, none of the ideas mentioned being worth losing sleep over in the blue eyed boy’s opinion. However, the meowing fireworks actually had some genuine thought behind them. Dare he say, it was even rather clever. They were not the prank itself but rather an additionally precaution, as well as being the most humane treatment of Mrs Norris the boys had spoken of. Scott knew from Olivia’s protests that Fred and George Weasley were not idiots, they just had a very distinct sense of humour. Scott, too, knew first-hand that they were not stupid. The two of them seemed to have the potential to excel in every subject but they did not believe that their futures lay in the realm of academic achievement. 

George Weasley was a particularly interesting case to Scott. The two of them shared an interest in potions and spell creation, both of them knowing this about the other but never bringing it up. In all honesty, George was the twin that Scott preferred and was happy that he seemed to be the one that he interacted with more. The lanky boy tended to follow Olivia around like a shadow on occasion whether he noticed it or not. 

Scott had noticed. Everyone had noticed. 

“You still going to volunteer in the Hospital Wing this year, Scottie?” questioned George, nudging Scott’s side lightly to get his attention. The question was not one that Scott had expected to hear from any of his dormmates, he never thought any of them paid his presence much mind. However, there was one of the Weasley’s offering him some sweets and asking him about his “stupid medicine hobby”.

“Didn’t know you knew about that, Weasley. But yeah, I’ve talked to Madame Pomfrey about it and she’s going to take me under her wing finally.” Scott allowed his pride over securing his volunteer placement seep into his words, revelling in George’s congrats. 

“Wicked! I didn’t know you wanted to be a healer, Reeves.” Lee piped up, now joining the chat happening on George’s bed. “You seen anything grim yet?”

“Haven’t started the job yet, Lee. Pomfrey made me wait until I was at least in third year before I was allowed to help her.” Scott explained, “I’m banking on at least two broken limbs from these two during quidditch though.” 

“Ah! You mean our unmatched skills. We wouldn’t send anyone to the hospital on purpose though.” Fred argued, flicking some sweet wrappers at Scott for his sour comment.

“I meant it would be you two I’d be having to deal with. Break your arms and you’ll be lucky if I help you.” Scott grumbled, hoping that his normally flat tone put across that he was joking. He really did hate quidditch and the few injuries he had seen from the sport had turned his stomach.

“That’s medical negligence!” Fred gaped dramatically. The joke argument between the four boys soon dissolved into a small wrestling match for “respect” and more sugar binging. The Gryffindor third year boys’ dormitory was going to be a right mess in the morning.

*

Father Dearest,

The first night back was great as always. The feast had some new food at it too – you should give making buttered parsnips a go sometime. Preet and I had a catch up once we got back to the room and she’s doing really well. She wanted me to tell you hello and she hopes you’re doing alright.  
How are you getting on without me? I know I ask that in all of my first night letters but someone has to worry about you. I remember you saying that you and Mr Weasley might be going on a hiking trip in The Lake District and I think you really should. You’ve got to put the pub on the back burner sometimes, you deserve a holiday too.  
I’m really excited about Herbology club this year. I get to be a more senior member since there aren’t many older students still in the club. There was this one first year boy on the train who had a toad and was reading that wildflowers book I have so he looked promising.  
I think my tutoring has actually started to help George in Herbology too. When we were in the Weasley’s garden he was able to tell which plants were which, mental I know! He’s really good at sketching the diagrams of the specimens too, I never realised how good he was at art if I’m honest.  
It’s pretty late now so I’m going to finish the letter off here. Remember to give the owl a treat this time so you don’t get your finger pecked at again!

I love you so much and goodnight, dad 

Love, Olivia


	11. A New Club Member

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herbology Club welcomes a new member... and his toad?

As of late, Professor Sprout had noticed a rise in bugs and other nasty things getting to the plants in the Hogwarts greenhouses, thus leading to the glass houses being regularly filled with herbicide potions. The increase in demand meant that the third year Potions class were put onto herbicide brewing duty for their double period on a Friday morning. The Potions classroom was the worst places to be so early in the morning, the lack of light convinced one’s brain that it was still time to sleep. A chorus of yawns filled the room until Professor Snape slapped a roll of parchment on the table in front of Preet.

“Today, you will all be showing me that you are capable of brewing an effective Herbicide. This comes as a request from Professor Sprout.” Monotoned Snape, “I trust you all remember this brew from your first year and therefore I expect silence while you work. Begin.” Potions class introductions were usually much shorter than that morning’s had been and Olivia could not help but be a little bit giddy. She enjoyed the links between Potions and Herbology, it allowed for her to marry her knowledge of both to her advantage. The recipe for herbicide was one that she knew like the back of her hand and she worked away happily.

Her keen interest in Potions would always be dampened by the drab, bully of a man that taught them it. Professor Snape very clearly disliked children, ones of the redheaded variety especially. While Olivia found herself bypassing Snape’s bullying, he paid the young witch no mind even when in class. Scott adored that the professor essentially pretended he was invisible, however, this did nothing but irk Olivia. She knew she excelled in Snape’s class; following the book instructions to the letter, working in silence and creating brews that were effective. It was the lack of praise and validation that rubbed Olivia the wrong way, as arrogant as it sounded. There had been moments where she almost allowed one of the twins to slip a dungbomb into her cauldron as Snape was inspecting her work.

“Olivia, how do you get that all powdery?” Fred whispered lowly. Olivia looked up at the boy and realised that her entire table – Fred, George, Preet, Scott and Lee – were watching her curiously. Scott had only been joining into to bother her though, she knew he was better at potions than she was. 

“You crush it with the blade of the knife. Don’t cut it.” Olivia muttered quickly. Snape had begun to make his watchful way around the dreary room, his eyes snapping towards any source of sound that resembled a whisper. Fred was going to lose a lot of house points if he was not careful. 

“Like this, yeah?” Olivia felt George nudge her side and looked down at her with a slightly desperate expression. She intended to simply nod but she made the mistake of looking up to meet his eyes. Olivia felt her face growing warm at being under the watch of large brown eyes – she quite liked his eyes, they were happy somehow. “Snape’ll get on at you, eyes forward.” He had whispered in her ear. It was a warning to a friend, and yet Olivia’s face continued to redden under the dim dungeon candlelight. Green eyes glanced quickly over the rest of the table she assumed were working away merrily but found four pairs of eyes and four smirks aimed at her. 

When did this reaction to one of her best friend’s being beside her even begin? And when would it stop?

*

That Friday continued on in its horrendous fashion for Olivia. She had been instructed by Snape to take all of the new herbicide to the greenhouses when heading to Herbology Club, not paying any regard for the fact that the dungeons were a good twenty minute walk away. The glass bottles rattled around in the small crate Olivia was carrying, echoing through the empty halls as she made her way out to the greenhouses. 

Herbology Club was, unsurprisingly, a small group of students. It was less a club and more greenhouse time that was allocated to students’ independent study into the subject, which was more than good enough for Olivia after such an exhausting day. On occasion, the small group would chat about their work or whatever was going on in their other classes but conversation rarely moved passed that. Olivia had quickly learned that she was considered rather outspoken and charismatic among the Herbology lot, even the seventh years that frequented the greenhouses were shy around the younger girl. Perhaps Preet had been rubbing off on her?

So, when Olivia pushed open the glass door with her foot only to be met with a shrieking and several students standing on their stools, she had almost dropped the potions in shock. “Get your toad, you little twit!” One of the fifth years – Claire? – hollered at an unfamiliar boy. The young boy chasing the energetic toad around the room had rather large teeth and had a slightly husky build. He looked like the type that would be eaten alive on a daily basis. The red and gold tie around his neck further proving that suspicion. 

“I’m r-really sorry. Trevor won’t hurt you, I p-promise.” The first year boy looked as if he was on the verge of tears. He was nearly diving under the workbenches to catch Trevor the toad and the four other students yelling at him really was not helping. Olivia quickly moved to slide the crate of herbicide onto a nearby shelf and pulled out her wand from her pocket. Her feet carried her around the mounted stools, ignoring maybe-Claire’s dramatic whining, until she reached the side of Trevor’s owner.

“Immobulus.” Olivia exclaimed, her wand pointing to the sack of manure that the lose toad had been resting on. The spell caught the creature mid-jump and his warty body hit the tiled floor with a light slap, limbs still outstretched and easy for his owner to scoop up. “Glad I came in when I did, honestly.” Olivia scoffed towards the students now wobbling off our their stools. One would think that being at school where there is a toad choir would mean the creatures would be seen as a fairly normal presence. 

“Trevor, thank goodness! You need to stop jumping away, mister. Y-you’ll only get one dinner if this keeps up.” Said the first year boy with the large teeth. “Thank you so much, miss. I-I’m really sorry to cause you so much trouble but I’m still new.” 

“It’s okay, I imagine he’s a pretty slippery pet even on a good day.” Olivia chuckled, she wanted the young boy to calm down at least a little since his eyes still looked rather red. “My name’s Olivia, and this must be Trevor. So, what’s your name?” 

“My name’s Neville Longbottom, I-I’m in first year.” His stutter seemed to be weakening and his shoulders relaxed when he realised that this girl with the messy, low pigtails was nice. “I was coming here for the club but I think I’ll j-just go.” 

“Oh no you don’t, Neville.” Olivia said, grabbing Neville’s robe sleeve and leading him towards the bench where she normally sat. She dumped her bag down on the worktop and motioned for Neville to take the seat across from her and do the same. “Don’t mind the rest of them. They might give you the odd dirty look but everyone’s made mistakes in here. Claire over there once tried to levitate a sack of manure out the door and fell on Professor Sprout.” Olivia could not hold back a giggle when she remembered how mortified Claire had been as Professor Sprout hauled herself up with rage in her eyes and manure on her face. Neville had also began to laugh, it was small but Olivia had noticed it. 

“She was the one calling me mean names so thank you for letting me know that. What year are you in, O-Olivia?” Neville asked.

“I’m in third year now. I’m also in Ravenclaw,” Olivia waved her tie towards her workmate and he looked at her with wide eyes. “And you’re a Gryffindor, very nice, Neville.” 

“You’re actually the first person to say that. I dunno why the hat put me there but I like red so I guess it’s okay.” Neville had begun to mumble his words again. He fiddled with his tie, his robe sleeve and absentmindedly pet his now sleepy toad. Olivia knew that some people did not feel that they belonged in the house they had been sorted into but she had not seen anyone quite this dejected by it. 

“Well, I would say you’re quite brave. You just had your toad terrorise this greenhouse and yet you’re still sitting here speaking with me.” Olivia countered as she started to clip some nettle leaves. Neville did not speak for several minutes after her comment as he truly did not know what to say to the Ravenclaw. Since the first night, Neville had been extremely aware that he did not seem like the other Gryffindor boys. He was a tad husky, he was quick to tears and he missed his gran quite a lot. However, it was true, he had not legged it out of the greenhouse in a flood of tears with Trevor under his arm. Even he was rather surprised that he was now sitting across from a Herbology club member.

“Are you on the club committee, Olivia?” said Neville. It was obvious that he did not want to talk about his bravery any further so Olivia was not going to push him. She replied with a grin and a nod. While “committee” was a strong word for it, she supposed that she was on it. “Is it okay if I join even though I’m a first year? I-I’d like to come back.” 

“Oh, of course you can. Academic clubs don’t care about year groups. Only quidditch does that, I think.” Olivia replied. Neville did not seem at all like the quidditch type so she did not know why she brought it up. “I, for one, would be more than happy to see you around here again. Your surname is Longbottom, yeah?” messy pigtails were off swaying towards the unofficial club register that was pinned to a board near the door. Neville’s name was neatly written after Olivia’s on the sheet of paper and therefore he was now an official-unofficial Herbology club member. 

The pair continued to chat away between themselves throughout the late afternoon and into the evening. Olivia showed Neville a few chapters of her copy of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, it was heavily annotated and he found it very helpful when it came to his mandrake root homework assignment. Neville had begun to open up much more willingly to Olivia and she learned that he was raised by his gran, his toad had a bad habit of running (or hopping) off and he had been the butt of a few jokes from Ronald Weasley. Olivia was going to give the youngest redhead boy an earful the next time she saw him. 

Dinner time soon rolled around and Neville decided to excuse himself to head back to the castle. He did not want to leave but his stomach had started to growl very loudly. Olivia had been prepared to spend a few more hours in the greenhouses since she had been greatly enjoying her class work about dried nettles and their uses in potions. Her uniform pockets were stuffed with some sweets and sandwiches to keep her going throughout the evening, she did not even really want dinner since she had had a large lunch. She found herself thinking more about Neville Longbottom as she gathered her equipment for the night. She could not help but be worried about the young Gryffindor and his rather lumpy toad. He was the dorky sort of first year and she knew that most people used them as easy targets or punching bags. It would be much worse if he was a muggle born too. She would know.

*

Hours ticked by as Olivia shuffled around Greenhouse three, tending to her nettle plants and pressing some of the leaves onto parchment for personal archiving. The sun had long since set over the towering castle and moonlight had started to bounce around the glass room. 

If the moon was out then Olivia should have been in her common room.

“Oh no, no, no.” Olivia whined, her feet stomping on the tiles at how stupid she had been. If she was caught out of the common room after dark then she would be slapped with a detention and deducted house points immediately. Somehow she imagined that Professor Flitwick would not take “I just really like Herbology” as a valid excuse for being out and about so late at night. 

Olivia decided that she was just going to have to use what the twins had taught her. She would have to be sneaky and potentially boot Mrs Norris in the process. If Fred or George caught wind of her being out after hours then they would definitely try to rope her into their prank setting evenings as a lookout; the proposal had been mentioned more times than she could count. 

In a hurry, Olivia shoved her notebook, parchment and quill into her backpack and extinguished all the lamplight in the greenhouse. She was going to be navigating in the messy darkness of the campus too. Just fantastic, she thought.

With the area around the greenhouses cleared, Olivia had been able to slip through the Entrance Hall and into one of the many long, wide corridors. With a quiet sigh of relief, she leant against the cold stone wall and peered around the parameter, she felt as if she was in one of the old spy movies her dad watched. There was no sign of Mrs Norris’ piercing yellow eyes or Mr Filch’s manky old coat and constant grumbling. She was still going strong on her mission for the Ravenclaw common room. This was definitely going to be a prime late night story to tell Preet about. 

A hand clasped her shoulder suddenly and it took all of her resolves not to let out a massive screech at the fright.


	12. Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mad dash back to Ravenclaw Tower by moonlight? A flawless plan.

“Evening, Miss Livy. You’re definitely not who I expected to see out and about this time of night.” It was George, thank goodness it was George. Olivia was so relieved to see his cheerful face but she still made a point of jabbing him in the stomach for scaring her and potentially getting them both caught.

“Should I even ask what _you’re_ doing out this late?” asked Olivia.

“Well, I’m going to tell you regardless. Fred and me were testing out some meow-bang fireworks.” George was very proud of the working title he had for the fireworks and he was even more proud that they had worked. Well, they had worked to an extent. “Old Norris seemed to like her new friend but right now, I’m a wanted man.” George made quick work of grabbing Olivia’s arm and taking off into a sprint. Her legs were having to work overtime to keep up with the lanky fugitive she had found herself involved with. While the prospect of being hunted by Mr Filch had become all the more serious with George by her side, Olivia could not think of anyone better to have help her get back to her common room undetected - well, probably Fred.

“Wait. Wait a second. We can’t just run through the halls and hope we don’t get seen, now can we? We should get our bearings about us and take the corners nice and slo-” Olivia’s strategising was cut off by George holding a hand up to her and pulling some severely aged parchment from his robes. Did he and Fred have escape plans drafted up now?

“While I’m liking the new interest in my hobbies, this here is all the help we need to get back in one piece.” George held the old folded up parchment out, took out his wand and flashed a small smile to his current partner in crime. “Watch this, Livy, it’s mental. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Ink began to appear on the parchment George held. The brown lettering was spiralling on the folded page and soon revealed the words ‘The Marauder’s Map’ to the duo. Hurried hands unfolded the map and a full layout of Hogwarts was sprawled across the page. 

Olivia gaped at the massive school map. She could not help but let her jaw hang open. There had been a map of the school all this time and George never thought to mention. She noticed that little brown shoe prints were floating across the layout, tiny scrolls with people’s names following them along. There was Professor Snape in the Slytherin common room, Professor Flitwick scurrying around his classroom and Mr Filch marching down a corridor that was terrifyingly close by. 

The scolding of George Weasley about the map would have to wait. The pair had noticed Filch’s position at the same time and they took off running once again. “This thing is wicked, isn’t it? We nicked it from Filch’s office, he just had it sitting about like it was rubbish!” George’s excitement about the ‘wicked’ magical map caused his voice to come out a tad louder than intended. Olivia had tried to shush him quickly, she knew he tended to yell when excited. 

“Oi, Weasley! Whichever one you are, get back ‘ere!” Mr Filch’s rough voice bellowed throughout the halls. He was close by and the pair were running out of shadowy areas to run to. Olivia’s breathing started to get heavier as the stomping of Filch’s boots started to become less faint. She knew that it was a silly thing to be scared of but she really did not want to get detention. She never wanted to get into trouble. 

Olivia had started fidgeting with the sleeve of George’s robes as a way to calm down. It was not working. Still in the midst of forming some sort of plan, George sensed that Olivia was particularly anxious to the point of being scared. He knew that Filch was all bark and no bite but she did not. She still saw the groundskeeper as scary and intimidating. 

George scanned the map, his eyes darting from left to right around where they were standing. He just needed somewhere they could hide, anywhere. A broom cupboard had been a contender for a brief moment but a small, cramped space probably was not the best place for Olivia. 

The Transfiguration classroom. It was a short sprint up ahead. 

Olivia’s hand was grabbed tightly, her knuckles almost turning white, as she and George made another mad dash along the corridor then right. They came to a heavy, dark wooden door and hurriedly forced it open together. The pair barrelled into the deserted classroom and shut the door with the gentlest click. 

“I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes.” Olivia panted, her back sliding down the door until she hit the stone floor. Her legs were now feeling particularly shaky, both from the stress and the surprising adrenaline rush. 

“Yeah, Filch has that effect on you the first few times. The same thing happened to me back in first year. Everything I saw was really boring though.” George chuckled. He found himself forcing his humour out as a means of reassuring Olivia that everything was okay. It was a tried and tested method of his, not that she knew about it. 

“You hadn’t started that ‘Weasley Empire’ yet so I imagine life was just your mum’s cooking and bullying Ron.” Teased Olivia, feeling a sense of calm wash over her as George sat down beside her. “He told me about the spider thing. Creative work but a bit traumatic for a five year old.”

“It was character building, I stand by that. I knew he would tell you of that stuff, idiot.” George mumbled the last part of his response. He was oddly embarrassed that Ron had essentially told on him and Fred to Olivia. 

“Nah, don’t be all embarrassed, Georgie. I know it’s just how you show him you love him.” Olivia shot George a smug grin as he dramatically retched at the very idea of loving Ron, his face soon morphing into a deep scowl. The grin and glare were held for a few breaths longer before the pair fell into a fit of hushed laughter. 

“You never said what you were doing out and about?” asked George, looking very interested in whatever Olivia’s answer was to be. 

“I hate to burst your bubble but I just lost track of time while at Herbology club. A bit of boring thing to risk detention over.” Olivia was aware that George had been holding out on her going through a rebellious phase at some point, he had brought it up plenty of times of summer. The twins had been convinced that they would crack her well behaved spirit eventually and they could bring her into their operations as some sort of comrade; again, the situation was beginning to sound like an old spy film. After the mud fight at The Burrow, Fred and George had started to pester Olivia much more about potions and plants in relation to their pranks. The boys were in the process of “building an empire”, as they put it, and they saw Olivia as a fantastic candidate for the role of material supplier. “I know you won’t understand, but I just really can’t get into trouble.” 

“Firstly, I assumed it would be something to do with the greenhouses because it’s you. Second, you won’t get into trouble so stop worrying so much. Out of me and Fred, I’m the master escapist. Besides, I feel like your dad would be proud if you got detention.” The red-haired boy regretted the comment of Stanley McLaren immediately after he had said it. He knew that Olivia and her father had a very close bond since it had been just the two of them for some years but Olivia always made sure she was doing her father proud. Whether it was her behaviour, her grades or her magical abilities, she had to be excelling in at least one thing. It was not a case of her father caring about these things, in fact, the man just wanted his daughter to enjoy her youth while she honed her magic. It was a case of Olivia feeling the need to prove herself to the magical world since her father was a muggle. 

“He would definitely get a laugh out of it, that’s for sure. I just don’t want him to have to worry about me any more than he probably does. Especially when it would be about me and magic.” Olivia answered rather flatly, forcing a small chuckle past her lips. 

“Sorry to bring it up at a time like this, just thought it might lighten the mood a bit, you know? Is everything alright with your dad?” George could not hide the slight worry in his eyes as he looked down at Olivia, her face now buried in her knees.

If there was anyone that she could confide in and be a little bit vulnerable around it was George. Olivia sighed and spoke again, “He’s stopped going to Diagon Alley and stuff by himself lately. I’m worried he’s put off of magic now, okay?” It was true. Stanley had been distancing himself from the magical world, it was slow but Olivia had quickly noticed. She knew that since she was still young, her father would not tell her much in ways of a reason for any of it. Unfortunately, this caused a number of scenarios to fire off inside the young witch’s head; what if he took her out of school? What if the ‘blood purity’ rubbish had scared him?

What if he started to be scared of it all? Of her?

“What!? Have you seen all the crap our dads send each other and the amount of letters they send? I’ve never seen a muggle that on board with magic - well, ever, honestly.” George was surprised at Olivia’s words. Both of their father’s had spent their time at The Burrow holed up in the Weasley’s shed, marvelling over some magic car. It had become a passion project for the men. George had seen how Stanley looked at his daughter; she was all he had and he would never dream of turning his back on her. “You’re just getting all in your head again. You know your dad must have a good reason for it.” 

“Yeah, but-but-“ Olivia stammered. George was right and she hated to admit it. These occasional beats of emotional stress were becoming more frequent and honestly Olivia was chalking it up to her age. However, the ‘muggle’ status that was becoming a common insult did little to further that assumption. 

“Nope, I want to hear you agree with me, Livy. Come on, it won’t kill you, I swear.” George pestered, poking Olivia’s side teasingly.

“Okay, okay, fine. I know my dad probably has his reasons but I’m still worried that it’s something to do with me.”

“You’re bloody brilliant so there’s zero reason to worry, now shut up.” A lanky arm wrapped around Olivia’s shoulders and she was pulled into George’s side. Her eyes were now wide with surprise at George’s moment of tenderness as she glanced quickly up at his face. Eye contact was quickly out of the question as George had buried half of his face in his other arm and trained his eyes on the floor in front of him. The blue moonlight that was streaming in through the tall windows in the classroom illuminated the pair’s embrace.

George was very concerned about his friend. He had not taken notice to any potential issues with her home life and he could not help but kick himself for that. Out of himself and Fred, George knew that he was the more compassionate twin; he was much more considerate of their prank victims feelings, unless it was Ron or Percy. Both of the boys were fiercely protective of Olivia but George found himself wanting to be the one that she would come to first. Was it strange that he wanted to hear about her problems? Probably a little bit, but he just wanted her to be okay. He wanted her to be the way she was over summer.

Olivia wrapped her own arm around George’s middle and rested her head lightly on his shoulder. She was worried that the movement would come off as uncomfortable and potentially crossing a line but she really needed a hug in that moment. “Thank you, George. You’re pretty brilliant yourself.” Olivia said followed by a breath of a laugh.

“N-no problem, Olivia.” George stuttered.

“Also, that meow-bang fireworks name is kind of bad. “Feline fizzers” sounds a bit better.” Olivia stated, biting back a snort at George’s stuttering. The twin pranksters still had some ways to go when it came to naming their projects but Olivia was more than happy to nudge them in a good direction.

“Oh, I’m sorry we can’t all be wordsmiths like you, little miss Ravenclaw.” George slightly shoved Olivia off his side with a smirk and a chuckle. “That is an alright name though, I suppose. I like the alliteration.”

“Look at you being clever with the English terms.” Olivia giggled. The shove she received for that comment was a tad harder than the last one.

“I’m a genius in many ways that you’re not, McLaren. We should probably check if Filch has moved on yet, it’s getting really late and you’ll need to get back.” said George, pulling out the parchment map from his robes. The brown ink words were still moving around as the two scanned for Mr Filch or Mrs Norris’ names. The pair of snitches had moved their patrol towards the library which gave Olivia and George a fairly good opening to make another run for the Ravenclaw common room.

George was not joking when he boasted about his escapist skills. He and Olivia moved swiftly through the wide corridors and the occasional winding stairway to avoid Mr Filch. The soft tapping of their school shoes was all that could be heard throughout the dark castle. Olivia had a tight grip on George’s hand since she was still “being a worry-worm”, these being George’s words. He would glance back at her and still see a veil of panic across her round face and that was his motivation to get her back to Preet undetected.

The bronze eagle door knocker was such a magnificent sight for George and Olivia. The two had forgotten that prefects also roamed the castle halls during the night and they had nearly been spotted by Percy Weasley. George toyed with the idea of sending a firecracker off to fly up the back of his brother’s robes but Olivia’s nervous squeeze of his hand kept him focused.

“I am tall when I am young and I am short when I am old. What am I?” questioned the shining eagle. The sophisticated voice of the door was anything but quiet and Olivia let out a small yelp when stomping could be heard.

“I know you two are around ‘ere! Couldn’t hide away from Mrs Norris, here!” Mr Filch’s rough voice bellowed from the bottom of the spiral staircase. The eagle was waiting on a response, their potential captor was closing in and Olivia’s adrenaline high was crashing fast. They were going to get caught and she may as well accept it, at least she would have George as detention company.

“A candle.” George whispered towards the eagle door knocker. The Ravenclaw tower entrance opened with a loud creak and Olivia was guided quickly through it. She only started to process the situation as the door closed and she caught her last glimpse of George as he waved cheerfully. Another firecracker had been floating beside his head and he held a box of matches in his other hand. Filch was about to get the full Weasley experience it would seem. Loud crackles and meowing could be heard faintly through the door and Olivia let a giggle pass her lips.

George had made good on his promise to get her back safely. However, she had hoped he would not have to incriminate himself further than he probably had. Trouble would follow the young Weasley wherever he wandered to and Olivia was beginning to accept that fact.

“And where in the world have you been, Olivia Pauline McLaren?” Preet’s tone was accusatory and Olivia knew that she was in for a long night of interrogation.

“I just lost track of time while in the greenhouses. Those nettles won’t press themselves, you know.” Olivia laughed, it was a nervous and shaky laugh. If Preet learned that she had been racing around with George then she would never hear the end of it.

“A likely story! You would be caught within five minutes of getting back in the castle and you know it. So, who was your partner in crime?” Preet pestered further.

“I _did_ get back by myself, I have been watching Filch’s patrol route so that I could get back if I lost track of time.”

“Well that’s a load of crap. We’re in Ravenclaw for a reason, Livy. Now, how was your jaunt with young Mr Weasley?” The girl was far too perceptive, it had become almost terrifying. Olivia shushed her friend and moved them towards the fireplace, away from the few students milling around in the common room.

“I bumped into George on my way back here, Filch was already on his arse, we had to hide in the Transfiguration classroom for a bit, he got the riddle at the door right and then he took off to torture Filch a bit more.” Olivia said in one quick breath. Recalling the events of the past hour caused a smirk to grace her features. She had escaped Filch the first time that she had nearly been caught by him. She was becoming a proper little 007.

“Wow. What I said was a lucky guess. But nice to see you two spending quality time together without the other one.” Preet said with a giggle. Olivia just stared at her friend with wide eyes and an embarrassed blush from being tricked into an incriminating confession. The wicked giggles from the dark haired girl continued until a navy blue throw pillow met her face.

“Do not breath a word of this at breakfast tomorrow. I will cut off the braids if you do, Bhatia.” Olivia threatened, the offending throw pillow held above her head, ready to strike again. Preet threw herself down dramatically onto the sofa and pressed her hand to her forehead, stricken with anguish over Olivia’s attack.

“I see how it is. My own best friend has to threaten me into silence all because she likes a ginger!”

“I don’t like him!” A pillow fight swiftly broke out between the girls. The battle was soon filled with giggles rather than aggressive scowls, but soon the sofa cushions were being pulled up. A fifth year prefect who had come down to see what all the ruckus was about broken up the pillow fight and sent the young girls off to their dorms before they broke something.


	13. The Midnight Flit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this Friday night, The 3rd year Gryffindor boys' dorm became an interrogation room

George Weasley had become a tad too cocky over his past three years at school. His grand distraction to allow Olivia to reach Ravenclaw tower unnoticed had backfired, unfortunately, and the young man was being marched back to Gryffindor tower by Mr Filch. The foul man had a firm grip on the back on his robes, grumbling roughly about the trouble “his beloved Mrs Norris” had endured from the meowing fireworks.

“Caput Draconis.” Mr Filch snapped at the Fat Lady portrait. She had been dozing off to sleep since it was half past eleven, so when she was disturbed, she scoffed and glared down at George’s guilty face. The common room entrance swung open and George was forcefully shoved through the portrait hole. “There’s no use tryin’ to get past me, Weasley.” Filch’s voice faded away as the entrance closed, hitting George’s back in the process.

Somehow, he knew that being caught was inevitable but he had not expected to be thrown around as much all because of a stupid cat. A simple charm cast on the pocket on the inside of his robes had allowed George to keep the remaining “feline fizzers” – Fred would lose his mind if their most recent creation was confiscated. The common room was thankfully empty and only dimly lit by the candles darted around so George would not receive a scolding from any older students. Or at least that is what the young boy had hoped.

“George! Did you just come through that portrait hole? It is half past eleven and I am not dealing with another year of you causing trouble!” The scolding had in fact not been avoided and Percy the perfect prefect was positively shrieking at his younger brother. George had been sure that he would be out patrolling the halls until at least midnight.

“Goodness gracious, Percy. There’s no need to be so bloody loud. Like you said, it _is_ half past eleven.” George quipped. He was far too tired to put up with Percy and his lectures that were oddly similar to that of their mother. He brushed by Percy and started to dash up the stairs to his dormitory, taking the steps two at a time.

“Don’t let me catch you again, George Fabian Weasley!” Percy barked after his brother. George could not help but roll his eyes at the use of his full name, like that was some sort of threat any more after the many telling-offs from Molly Weasley.

“Percy Prefect Weasley! Like you could ever catch me, you prat!” Before even more insults could be hurled across the common room, George quickly ducked into his dorm room. The heavy door closed with a soft thud and the young man was met with his roommates sitting on his and Fred’s beds, deeply engaged in a game of exploding snap.

“Good evening, George. Lovely to see you, mate.” Lee greeted, slamming down a card and watching an explosion blow up in Scott’s face. Fred quickly leapt from his bed and rushed to his brother with both fury and concern in his eyes. George was restrained in a headlock from his twin and dragged hastily towards the small group – he could have went without being thrown on his like a bag of rubbish but he did somewhat deserve it for making Fred worry.

“Right, git. You got caught, didn’t you? You had the map!” Fred yelled, perching himself on the edge of his own bed once again. He had returned to the common room an hour prior and expected George to be sitting with Lee and Scott in front of the fireplace. He had even had to fabricate a half-believable lie to explain to Percy why the twins were not together. It was amazing that Fred had not punched his brother for good measure and making him worry. Lee and Scott were already very used to the twins fighting over the silliest things, so they continued to play the game of snap. Scott was winning by quite a bit but he let Lee win at least a few rounds.

“There’s prefects crawling about as well as Filch, you know. Besides, I ran into Livy and I wasn’t just going to leave her to get detention, was I?” said George, as he changed into his pyjamas and avoided the explosive card game. Fred rolled his eyes and grumbled after hearing the mention of Olivia’s name.

“Aw!” Lee and Scott chorused, the game becoming an afterthought now that there was potential gossip. The two boys’ friendship had evolved into something similar to chatty old men, much to George’s recent dismay.

“Absolute knight in shining armour, you are.” Scott cooed, reaching over the ruffle George’s hair. If anyone within the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory knew the finer details behind George’s more tender treatment of Olivia, it was Scott Reeves. Some days it was rather sweet to watch them both being slightly flustered around each other and other days it was positively cringe-inducing. He could not hold back a shit-eating grin as he further annoyed the redhead – if Preet did not already know about the recent development then he would definitely tell her first thing in the morning.

“You were gone for an hour longer than Fred, mate. What did you do? Go pick her up from the greenhouses and have a lovely little moonlit stroll?” Lee sniggered. He and Scott were now laying on their stomachs and gazing at George in mockery along with the batting of their eyelashes. Fred was not remotely interested in teasing his brother at that moment as he closely examined The Marauder’s Map to ensure that it was in the condition he had left it in.

“She was walking back from the greenhouses, actually. She was as scatter-brained as ever and like I said, I wasn’t just gonna bloody leave her.” George was not going to go too much into Olivia’s panic over getting caught but he was not going to let his mates tease him just because he helped a girl. “Lee, you follow Katie around like some bloody lost puppy, how is that better than what I did?” George smirked when he saw Lee’s face morph in horror over being outed in his interest in Katie Bell, another Gryffindor in their year.

“You’ve been doing what?!” Scott howled, rolling on Fred’s bed in loud laughter at the expense of his glaring friend. Fred’s attention had been brought back to the conversation between his dormmates and he let a wicked smile shoot its way towards Lee. The poor boy was blushing like mad and it was about to get much worse.

“Katie? It was Angelina last week.” Fred said, sounding dumbfounded by the shocking information but really, he just wanted to make Lee suffer a little bit more. The dormitory conversation had become much more girl-centric since they had started their third year. It was an odd evolution among the four boys but the constant content for teasing was an absolute goldmine.

“Shut up! Look what you’ve done!” Lee wailed while the rest of the group burst out laughing. The dreadlocked boy rushed at George and a very unbalanced wrestling match broke out between the two boys. Lee was small and had a lower centre of gravity, giving him a slight advantage over George and his lanky frame. However, he failed to take into account that George was, in fact, a Weasley and that meant that he had plenty of fighting practise – most of which coming from Fred and Ginny, surprisingly.

“Want to put some bets on the exploding snap?” Scott suggested to Fred when the novelty of the wrestling match had worn off.

“Best one of those cauldron cakes you’ve got hidden away and you’re on, Scottie.” Said Fred. After several of the sweet treats being thrown back at Scott’s smug face, the boys let out a chorus of hoarse yawns. As much as they all wanted to stay up and continue to tease George about his unwavering chivalry, they all had Charms homework they would have to at least glance at in the morning.

Fred and Lee could be heard lightly snoring within minutes of hitting their pillows. The fireplace in the middle of the dorm room continued to crackle away as George stared up at the roof of his bed. The teasing had been funny when they were younger, in first and second year, but now that they were all older, he felt that everyone had noticed something he had not. A multitude of thoughts were racing around in his sleepy mind, keeping him from blissful rest that he needed after his stressful night.

“George? You awake?” Scott whispered from the bed beside George’s. He was tempted to remain silent but he liked Scott. They never spoke all that much by themselves but he knew that Scott was important to Olivia and also he was a nice lad, if not a tad too snarky some days.

“Yeah, you alright?” George replied, keeping his voice hushed since Lee was a notoriously light sleeper.

“I just wanted to say thanks for being so nice to Liv tonight. This is why you’re my favourite of you and your twat brother.” Scott was slightly uncomfortable when it came to vulnerability. The young boy was much more a fan of snark and stoicism but he knew Olivia. He knew how much she would rather have a quieter time at school to avoid worrying her dad.

“She doesn’t know how to handle Filch yet. Got to get some more firecracker testing in there too.” George mumbled into his pillow. He was not entirely sure of his feelings towards Olivia but he knew that he always wanted to make sure she could have her desired quiet life. This was how a close friendship worked, he concluded. Scott hummed in agreement before turning on his side with a small smile on his lips.

It was amusing to hear George talk about Olivia, in Scott’s opinion. The redhead would speak himself in circles to avoid saying that he liked her. It was painfully obvious that Georgie had a crush on the garden obsessed girl, even his twin had noticed and Fred’s observation skills were by no means a talent. Scott had started to consider putting some bets on his friends’ relationship. He could definitely get Preet in on it and he would put five galleons on the constant pining to continue until their final year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. I would just like to say thank you so much if you have reached this point in the story and I do hope you're enjoying it! 
> 
> This is just a little note to say that my updates will be a tad more inconsistent until Christmas time since I have a lot of university deadlines coming up right now. I hope you all understand and I promise that the story will continue on full steam ahead.


	14. Quirrell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defense Against the Dark Arts was usually a right boring class. However, Professor Quirrell chose to change that one morning.

The teaching methods of each professor at Hogwarts were known to be widely varied. Professor Sprout tended to favour practicality and engaging with her students through her friendly snappy comments. Professor Snape was known to be cold, collected and concise in each and every Potions lesson. Professor Binns was a ghost and so, of course, his teaching approach was “worse than death”, according to Lee Jordan.

And then there was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell. The man was very odd, to put it nicely. He spoke with a prominent stutter and because of this he never had a particularly strong handle on his class that contained the infamous third year Gryffindor boys. Olivia did not mind the professor’s stutter or disposition that was similar to that of a small woodland creature – she minded that he had random bursts of impulse when it came to the curriculum.

Olivia sat next to Preet in the large, airy attic classroom for their double period of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Based on their previous two years, Defense was a shockingly dull subject where theory was always the favoured approach. Fred and George loudly voiced their displeasure with sighs and groans as they shuffled into the classroom. Scott made a point of hauling George into the seat beside him, his desk being the one behind his female friends. He may as well try and get a kick out of watching George try not to stare a hole in the back of Olivia’s skull.

Professor Quirrell moved to the front of the classroom, waving his wand so that the shutters on the windows closed, painting the room in only bright candle-light. The bang of the shutters woke up each of the third-year students with a jump and it was clear that the lesson was going to be a strange one. “I-I am going to jump s-straight into our lesson for t-today, students. N-now that you are all in your t-third year, we are going to ex-explore practical meth-methods.” Professor Quirrell’s voice carried a strange eagerness under his stutter. Preet’s head was already beginning to lull while it rested in her hand and Olivia could not blame her. “To-today we are go-going to be facing a c-creature known as a-a Boggart.”

The sleepy Ravenclaw’s head immediately shot up at the mention of the mysterious magical creature and the classroom began to fill with hushed chatter. Olivia, once again, felt at a loss in the magical world since she seemed to be the only student who had never heard of the creature. She turned her head to scan the reactions of her classmates and they were far from happy. George’s usually happy eyes had been drained of their spark. Scott’s face had fallen into a stony stare, a face that he pulled when he was deep in thought. Fred and Lee were the most positive looking pair but it was clear that there was hesitation in their body language. What was this thing they were about to have to face? And in a _classroom_?

The students were motioned to form a line after their desks and chairs were swept to the sides of the room. Scott had been pushed to the front of the line by Fred and his stoic expression fell away for a second when his eyes went wide. Quirrell had briefly stated the properties of a Boggart but Olivia only focused on the fact that they embodied a person’s worst fear. They were expected to be faced with something so potentially traumatising at just thirteen years old? Honestly, when she fully considered it, it was not that far-fetched for Hogwarts but it was still mad.

“P-please repeat after me, chil-children. Riddikulus!” Quirrell said. They were to face the fear-loving monster and use the spell to transform it into something funny, thus rendering it harmless. The lesson plan did seem intense but rather exciting since they had never done a fully practical lesson in Defense Against the Dark Arts before. Even Professor Quirrell had a wide grin on his face, it was almost a touch unsettling how giddy the man seemed. Olivia found herself shifting on the balls of her feet excitedly while in the queue of students – she was curious to see how her classmates handled the situation given it was a Thursday morning. She wondered what form the creature would take for each of her friends.

Surely the twins did not have any real fears? Maybe it would take the form of their mother? Scott did not seem like the sort to be terrified of anything either, he was always so nonchalant about everything…

Before Olivia could think up more assumptions, the dark wooden, rather ornate chest at the head of the line was pulled open by Professor Quirrell. Fred gave Scott a light shove towards the chest as something began to stand up from it. It started off as some sort of grey mist, similar to thick fog but with a solid figure. The mist tumbled onto the floor and formed into a large wooden box with the Gryffindor crest of the inside of the lid. A bludger was shaking under chain restraints violently in the box and Scott stumbled back slightly.

“A bludger- Oh no, no.” Preet gasped from behind Olivia.

“Aw, you scared of some sporting goods, Reeves?” Teased a voice from the back of the line. Olivia recognised that it belonged to Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin boy with a tall frame and his nose constantly turned up at those he deemed inferior – that being most of their year.

“We’ll protect you, don’t worry!” Another voice cooed, this one belonging to Cassius Warrington – one of Pucey’s minions. Olivia had noticed that the small group of Slytherin’s in her year made a hobby of teasing Scott in the last year. It was not that her friend was an easy target, it was that he tended to become silently angry – a reaction that the Slytherin’s revelled in. Olivia began to spin around on her heels, disdain in her eyes, and she was ready to give the foul boys a piece of her mind. Preet stopped her, however, grabbing her shoulder quickly and giving her a look as if to say “it’s not worth the effort”. With a frustrated huff, Olivia grounded herself in place and continued to watch Scott. He now looked annoyed at the Boggart, it had not scared him so much as embarrassed him.

“Oh, bite me, Pucey.” Scott muttered, still keeping his eyes trained on the convulsing equipment case. The classroom remained quiet aside from the odd snigger from the Slytherin’s in the back.

“C-come on now, Mr Ree-Reeves. That will be f-five points for the f-foul lang-language.” Professor Quirrell stated. While a few of the other Gryffindors in the class grumbled at the point loss, Scott continued to be laser-focused on the task at hand. Olivia knew the dark haired boy well enough to know that he would not accept any help from anyone. This knowledge did nothing to settle her. The berating was something she and her friends were more than used to – Pucey and his gang were big fans of taunting Olivia. The Slytherin’s saw her as the helpless little girl that always smelled like earth and Olivia was fine with it, “water off a duck’s back”, as Stanley would say. She realised that paying them no mind made them more frustrated than anything and so that is what she would have to do. Scott and Preet, however, did not share the same sentiment.

Olivia reached for Scott’s free hand but her body was pulled back at the sound of chains breaking apart. The bludger was now racing around in the air, bouncing off the ceiling with enough force to leave a dent and rattle the hanging lanterns. Students began to shriek and tried to take cover under their desks but the bludger seemed to have different plans when it cut off their path. The twins were about ready to use their beater skills to tame the rogue ball but Scott beat them to it.

“Riddikulus!” Scott yelled sharply, the stoic expression still on his face but now his lip was quivering slightly. Olivia pulled Preet down to the floor as the ball threw itself towards them but then it seemed to deflate – it had turned into a lumpy brown balloon, now laying limp on the floor.

“Ex-excellent work, Mr Re-Reeves! I shall gi-give those f-five points b-b-back.” Professor Quirrell exclaimed. Scott’s eyes remained trained on the bludger balloon, not acknowledging the professor’s praise. “Now, who i-is next.”

“Sir, you can’t be serious?” Olivia asked from her crouched position on the floor. The lesson had started with people’s heads nearly getting caved in by rogue Quidditch equipment and they were supposed to just move on? “Look at Scott. He nearly didn’t stop that thing.” She shot Scott a look of concern. Lee was trying to cheer him up with some light teasing and praise for acting quickly.

“But he-he did, Miss McLaren. You all n-now see how fast you-you must act.” Professor Quirrell said, clapping his hands together, “n-now, Mr Weasley, if y-you will.” George had taken the next place in line after Fred tried to get a hit of the bludger so he would be the next one to face his fear. The tension of the classroom had eased rather quickly and now everyone was crowding around George and the chest – what would be the greatest fear of one of the castle’s pranksters? Olivia pushed her way to the front of the small crowd and watched George standing. He looked nervous but was forcing it back with a smirk. To say she was worried would be an understatement after seeing how horribly the practical had gone for Scott. Preet noticed her friend’s body tense and her stare intensify, her fingers laced between Olivia’s and she gave the smaller girl’s hand a light squeeze. Preet had found that a small hand-hold was a useful way to keep Olivia grounded and calm.

The brown limp balloon rose from the dusty wooden floor and started to stretch and pull itself in mid-air.

The new form was definitely far from a bludger. It was now a ghastly figure, a black cloak billowed around its frame and a pair hand clutched a wand – the wand looked like some sort of bone. The hood of the cloak shifted and the class expected to see the face that belonged to George’s greatest fear.

There was no face, it was more reminiscent of a black hole. Just two piercing red orbs floated beneath the hood. George knew that it would become that thing, his father had told him stories before he started school and it had chilled him to the bone ever since.

“Is that-“

“It can’t be him-“

“Don’t say the name, shut up-“

Olivia was surrounded by the hushed tones and terrified gasps of her classmates. Everyone knew what the cloaked figure was but she was still in the dark. Was it death? Was it some creature? Was it-

“Is that what your dad said You-Know-Who looked like?” Preet asked Fred. Olivia turned to her friends and both of them looked as if they were faced with a ghost or a monster. To an extent, it was a monster at the head of the classroom. Olivia knew who, or rather what, You-Know-Who was but not as in depth as those actively raised around magic.

“Liv, come here. Stand back a bit, please.” Scott said, placing an arm around Olivia’s shoulder and pulling her to his side. The lesson was supposed to be fun, but it was becoming close to torture.

“Wait, no. If that’s _him_ then, George-“

“Mr W-Weasley, very interesting form there. N-now, remember the spell.” Professor Quirrell chirped. His stutter had become slightly masked as he continued to encourage George. George, however, had a blank expression on his fox-like features. His brown eyes appeared black and Olivia had never seen him look so void of, well, himself.

“Riddikulus.” George said. His voice sounded strained as if he was holding back tears. The Dark Lord’s cloak morphed into attire that was similar to that of Molly Weasley’s, even down to the eclectic patterns that did not match at all. Many of the students burst into small fits of giggles at the evil wizard and his new knitwear. Professor Quirrell scratched the back of his neck and nodded in approval at George’s efforts.

George quickly walked to stand beside his brother once again, avoiding eye contact with everyone much like Scott had. Fred, Lee and Scott shared a look of concern. A raid of the kitchens would be in order for them that night. Olivia shuffled close to George and grabbed his hand tightly, her thumb running across his knuckles that were white as he gripped his wand. She did not need to look at his face to know that he was both embarrassed and scared of what he had faced. Words would only make him feel as if she was pitying him so actions it was. “Cheers.” George breathed, the grip on his wand loosening.

“Just keeping you right, Georgie,” Olivia replied with a small laugh. 

Other students were called forward by Professor Quirrell to face their boggarts and get some long-awaited spell practise in. It seemed that the first two demonstrations had set up the tone for the rest of the class. Several people had taken to shuffling back to their seat after their turn was up. A few tears were also shed.

Angelina Johnson, a very pretty Gryffindor girl, had faced her grandmother dead on the classroom floor. Lee Jordan was met with a massive python that nearly coiled around his trouser leg. Roger Davies almost bolted from the room when the boggart morphed into a roaring storm cloud that let out a crack of lightning right in his face.

Preet’s boggart was the fastest to be hit with the counter curse. Everyone in the classroom caught a quick glimpse of a stone slab with the name ‘Preet Kaur Bhatia’ etched into it. Her birthday, June 4th 1978, was below her name, Olivia noticed. It was a tombstone. “Merlin’s sake,” Preet mumbled. Her voice was higher than voice and there was a slight crack as she spoke.

“Preet? It’s not real. It’s okay,” Olivia said, reaching for her friend but her reassurance was cut off. Preet called out the spell after Professor Quirrell’s stuttering encouragement and the stone melted into a bouncing slime ball that slapped Adrian Pucey in the gut. Fred made an attempt to high-five Preet for winding Pucey but she could only meet his hand weakly and with a tight smile.

“We’ll say that gut punch was for you, Scott.” Preet grumbled, slapping Scott on the back.

“The prick deserved it.” Olivia added, giving Preet’s free hand a quick squeeze. Her friend had just witnessed her own tombstone and Olivia could not imagine what was whizzing around her mind.

“Miss McLaren. Y-you ne-next?” Came the chirping stutter of Professor Quirrell. The teacher seemed to be far too happy watching his students being terrified and uncomfortable. He was never like that when he was the Muggle Studies teacher. Back then, the man had been painfully boring and Olivia rather missed it. With her head of unruly, chestnut hair held high, Olivia marched towards the misty form of the Boggart at the head of the classroom. She had no clue what would appear before her – she really hoped it would not be related to death.

“Go Livy!” Preet and George exclaimed. The two were trying to sound positive but the nervous waver in their voices could not be mistaken. The mist started to swirl like a small tornado then started to become its newest form. It was a tall, lean man with short brown hair and wide green eyes that were behind a pair of large tortoise-shell glasses. It was Stanley McLaren, and he looked terrified. In his hands were Olivia’s herbology books, a few photo albums and a scrapbook from when Olivia was little. Olivia was so confused as to why her father was in front of her but then he began to grit his teeth and rip into the books.

“Ugh! Why couldn’t you have been normal.” Stanley grunted angrily. He had started to rip up photos – some of Olivia and both her parents, some of Olivia and her school friends when they had come to visit her. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she felt every eye in the room staring a hole into her skull. The ripping of the photos and her childhood drawings and her herbology things was so loud, it was almost deafening. The grip on her wand tightened but she continued to watch her father. “Magic, this, magic, that. It’s all bullshit and it’s horrifying!”

“Dad? What are you-why are-“

“Are you dense, Olivia?!” He barely ever called her by her full name, “Your hair turning blue was bloody terrifying. I should have known not to be with Mary! No wonder witches used to get burnt.” Stanley barked, his eyes welling up with tears. He looked scared of his little girl, petrified almost. Olivia’s jaw was clenched painfully, she could not form words for what she was hearing and seeing, not even the spell would come out. What if these were his true feelings and that was why he had stopped going to Diagon Alley? What if her worries from her night running around with George were a reality. The berating continued and her father had started to wail in terror. A few students in the class could be heard sniggering quietly at the back of the room while Scott and Fred were gearing up to start a fight. Preet and the Gryffindor girls in were all huddled together, their eyes darting from Olivia’s glassy eyes and the crying man. George did not know what to do with himself. He knew he should do something but his feet would not move. The room carried a tension that could have been cut with a knife and it seemed that Professor Quirrell was almost revelling in it – his hand constantly shifting the back of his turban.

“Shut up!” Olivia choked out, she would be damned if she let her class see her cry during their first class. “Don’t make my dad into the bad guy. No one gets to make fun of my dad but me.” Her voice came out in a hoarse cry and she tried her hardest to chuckle lightly. The lesson was supposed to be a fun practical that they had all been waiting on for the past three years. However, now, Olivia was ready to strangle the creature for all of the pain it had inflicted and run back to the common room and cry. “Riddikulus.”

The torn up pieces of paper and photographs rose up and swirled around Stanley, his clothing starting to billow and grow. The man was soon clad in a full Santa Clause costume, complete with a full, fluffy beard and a pillow shoved down the front of his coat. “Ho, ho, ho!” was all that Stanley was shouting to the class and Olivia allowed a shaky smile to reach her face. The costume was exactly the same as the one her father had worn one year on Christmas. It was the year that her mother had died and he was dead set on making Christmas the happiest day for Olivia in any ways he could.

“Sir, can I go sit down for a bit, please?” Olivia said quickly to the Professor. Half of the already small crowd around the Boggart shuffled back to the desks behind Olivia – the weeping father had been more than enough for most of them for the day. Preet slid back into her seat beside her best friend and tried not to look down at her hung head in pity. She knew how protective Olivia was of her father and he of her. The father-daughter relationship was simply heart-warming in Preet’s eyes, not so reminiscent of her own relationship with her father. “I’m alright, you don’t need to look at me like I’m a kicked puppy.” Dark curls were tucked behind her ears as she turned to face her friends. She knew that what she had seen was not so bad when compared to George and You-Know-Who or Preet and her own tombstone.

“Brought some early Christmas cheer, at least. So, cheers to Miss McLaren.” Lee beamed, patting Olivia’s back. Lee had a way of making the best of a tense situation and the group could not have been more grateful for it.

“I was half expecting you batter the shit out of that thing,” Scott added. Each of the boys letting out a chuckle. “If Pucey says anything to you, I’ll beat the shit out of him, if you want?”

“What? And get him sent to Madame Pomfrey? That’s a fantastic idea, Scottie.” Preet countered with a smirk. However, after how Adrian had treated Scott, she would not think twice about giving the boy a good slap.

“Nah, nah. Pucey is past getting a lovely punch, I’ve got a few plans for him.” Said Fred. Lee and George shared a devilish grin between them and the mischievous glint in the boys’ eyes had returned. To Olivia’s surprise, Scott seemed to share in the enthusiasm about enacting some revenge of Pucey and Warrington, in particular. In the midst of scheming, Preet having gotten herself involved, George reached down and gave Olivia’s wrist a squeeze. He felt that it would be nice to return the favour since even she needed someone to keep her right.

The class continued on as if nothing borderline traumatising had occurred. Professor Quirrell had decided that he had clearly had enough fun for the double period and set the class back to theory study on Boggarts; including analysis of a Ministry case study and taking notes on an article about a Boggart infestation in Hungary in 1867. Olivia could not focus properly on the notes in front of her, her annotations were more doodles than comments and she resigned herself to fact that she would need to redraft her work after dinner. Preet, however, had snapped back into her star pupil frame of mind with her notes that were written in a variety of colours of ink – blue was for analysis, green was for personal opinion, and red was for anything she would need to revisit.

The class from hell finally ended and Olivia, Scott and Preet were nearly sprinting to get out of the classroom and head off to Divination. Scott’s backpack was quickly pulled backwards once they exited the classroom and Lee was grinning up at his dormmate. “Reeves, I’ve had a fantastic idea for helping you and your little bludger issue.” Preet and Olivia just glanced at each other as they watched Scott being dragged in the opposite direction from their next class.

“I don’t even want to know, to be honest.” Olivia chuckled. She linked her arm with Preet’s and pulled her along towards the Divination classroom. Maybe a crystal ball would tell her what Scott was about to get roped into. The boy could never seem to say no, when it came to Lee Jordan.


	15. Pollen Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greenhouse 3 is always lively on a Friday evening

A Herbology club evening was the main thing that Olivia had to look forward to. Fridays were her favourite day for this reason but it also meant she could find an easy distraction from her horrendous Thursday. It was not that the Boggart’s effect had lingered and eaten away at her mind, but rather she would recall the odd sob from her father and it would make her shiver. She had scribbled down a particularly long letter to her father after her day of classes – asking him how he was doing? Asking him what he had been up to? Asking if Mrs Figg had been at the pub lately. She did not like how desperate and protective she became but needed to know that Stanley was truly okay.

Olivia, Preet and Scott had holed themselves up in the library to sort out their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework about boggart habitats. Honestly, Olivia just wanted to make her notes look pretty with colour coded ink from Preet, and Scott did not want to be alone. Olivia found comfort in the fact that her best friends did not take to walking on eggshells around each other following facing their worst fears. They were only thirteen years old and yet they had all become aware of how raw their fears were. Scott had bounced back to his usual, teasing self – tickling Olivia’s face with his quill between article reading and criticising Preet’s ink coding and annotation style. Preet had also returned to herself, if not a tad softer – she took it upon herself to help both her friends with the subject as she knew Olivia was never all that good at it and Scott often went over parchment limits.

It was a pleasantly cosy Friday evening. The sun had began setting at around six in the evening those days but Olivia quite enjoyed the lantern-lit walk down to Greenhouse 3. There was a slight skip in her step since Professor Sprout had told her about some new specimens from Ilvermorny that had arrived earlier in the week. The Herbology professor had also allowed Olivia to bring Monty into the greenhouses during club activities after seeing how lazy and docile the grey cat was.

The most active members of the Herbology club were scattered around the greenhouse when Olivia pushed open the glass door. Mona Ochiyo, a Hufflepuff sixth year who had often mentored Olivia, was charming brooms to sweep up dried leaves and dirt. Oisean Martin, a very quiet Slytherin fourth year, was carefully extracting birch sap from some specimens from Durmstrang. Abigail Wolek, another Hufflepuff, could often be found tagging along with Mona. The other sixth year used the club time to do all of her own Herbology homework since help would be easy to get. Claire Monaghan, the ever charming, sour faced fifth year, was scrubbing gardening tools. Olivia noted that it was nice of the girl to finally decide to be helpful. “Hi, everyone.” Olivia greeted warmly with a slightly sleepy smile.

“Evening, Olivia. And Monty! Yay!” Mona exclaimed. Her black, shiny bobbed hair looked as pretty as ever in Olivia’s opinion. Goodness, she wished a bob would be a possibility with her own unruly hair. Monty purred happily as he padded towards Mona and was lifted into the girl’s arms – the cat was such a suck-up to everyone.

“Olivia!” A cheerful, squeaky voice called out. Olivia looked towards the row of sinks and saw Neville, waving at her. Claire was glaring at the younger Gryffindor as he dumped his used and mudded tools into the sink.

“Hiya, Neville.” Olivia chirped. It was clear that Monty would be fine sitting with Mona and Abigail for a few more minutes so she made her way towards the bench where Neville had spread out a ton of books and parchment. “How you been this week?”

“I’ve been okay, I suppose. Classes aren’t going great, but it’s still early in the year.” Neville said. Olivia could not help but note how Neville’s smile seemed to be a tad forced when he spoke about classes. If Ron had been annoying him again then Olivia would have no choice but to set Fred and George on their brother.

“You’ve only just started here, so don’t beat yourself about it, mate.” Said Olivia, nudged Neville in the side playfully. “Which class you struggling with? I imagine it isn’t Herbology. Sprout talked about you to our class earlier in the week, you know.” Professor Sprout really did adore the young boy and his aptitude for Herbology, it reminded Olivia of herself quite a bit.

“It was Potions. Snape really doesn’t like me very much.” Neville explained, “he doesn’t like any of the Gryffindors in my class, actually.”

“Not even Harry Potter? _The_ Harry?” Olivia gasped, “God, I thought he just hated Fred and George when it came to Gryffindors.” It was not a secret among students or staff that Snape had a particularly intense disdain for the Weasley twins. Olivia and Preet assumed it was because they were happy and that simply got under the greasy teacher’s skin.

“Oh no, he definitely hates all of the Weasley’s. He kept calling on Ron for answers in class and called him an “imbecile” because he didn’t know much about Cure For Boils.” Neville whispered. He had noted that Oisean wore a green tie and he was worried that any Snape bad mouthing would make its way back to the Slytherin common room. “Me and Harry are his least favourites though. My granny told me, in a letter, that our parents went to school with him and it was pretty ugly apparently.”

The things that Neville was telling her were only adding to the list of things that made Olivia loathe the Potions Master. She knew that the Professor paying her little to no mind even when she excelled in his class was not a good enough reason to hate the man but his sick love for bullying students was a great reason. Potions was a subject that Olivia enjoyed greatly, similar to Herbology. She had been made very aware that her academic talents lay in subjects that did not require any wand work and were heavily practical-based. More than a few of her classmates had made fun of her for not being good at “real magic”, just the funny stuff that some muggles would practice and call magic. Being a Ravenclaw only made the academic judgement worse since even a few of her housemates had started to make the odd snide comment about ‘muggle McLaren’. Olivia was quite glad that she and Neville had met so early in his time at Hogwarts. She saw quite a lot of herself in the boy – more than just the big front teeth and the dark hair. He needed to grow a little bit more of a backbone but she could definitely help him in that respect – maybe even teach him how to throw a good punch.

Monty leapt onto the workbench Olivia and Neville were occupying and prowled across the sheets of parchment. The cat’s large blue eyes were trained on Neville’s face, making the boy feel a touch nervous. Was the cat going to pounce at him? However, the Burmilla feline’s piercing eyes softened into their usual sleepy, hooded state and Monty hopped onto Neville’s lap. Calm purring could be heard as Monty fidgeted to get comfortable on his new friend. “Aw, Monty, look at you being friendly.” Olivia cooed at the scene in front of her. “Neville, him liking you is a very good sign. He’s got this weird sixth sense when it comes to people. He is a very good judge of character, you know.” It was true. For all that her cat seemed to crave affection from everyone, he was actually a very picky pet. Not just anyone could pet him or even be beside him. Monty had solidified that fact when he “accidentally” ruined another Ravenclaw’s homework. Said Ravenclaw being one of the people that coined the phrase “little muggle McLaren”.

“I’m really glad I left Trevor in my room now.” Neville chuckled, scratching Monty’s back and running his hand up the cat’s slightly fluffy tail.

“I think him and Trevor would get along. Monty is really respectful of the squirrels and occasional frog we get in the allotment back home.” Olivia explained. Monty truly was a well-behaved animal, mostly suspiciously so on occasions.

“Oh, you have an allotment plot? That’s so cool! I asked my gran about getting one of those near our house – we don’t have a garden, you see.” Olivia found herself wondering where Neville lived. She imagined it to be one of those really pretty townhouses in the posh part of London. “She said that it would be a waste of time though. She’s really got her heart set on me being good at Transfiguration.” Neville continued with a small frown when he mentioned the stern words of his grandmother. “I don’t blame her though – not at all, she’s just wanting me to do my best. She’s just not the best at motivational speaking.”

“You could come to me and my dad’s plot some time if you like? Like during summer, we grow some veg and herbs and flowers around that time.” Olivia beamed. She was not going to pass up the opportunity to make a fellow gardening friend. Besides, she liked Neville, he was quite the chatterbox when he came out of his shell.

“Really?!” Neville exclaimed with a toothy grin. “I mean – I’d need to ask my gran but yeah… Please tell me you live in London.”

“I do, don’t worry. It’s in a very _very_ muggle area but it’s pretty central.” Olivia said, with a grin equal to Neville’s. Normally, she would be quite embarrassed to talk about where she lived. Olivia had quickly learned that many magical children at the school lived in the countryside, in big houses, far away from non-magical eyes. Many of them probably did not want to hear about a little two-bedroom flat in Kentish Town above a pub frequented by pensioners and the odd stag-do. She had not even gone into great detail about it with Scott or Preet. After hearing of the Bhatia’s home that was an old Inn near the coast in Ashburnham and the Reeves’ home that was on the Durham Dales, Olivia decided to keep her mouth shut a little while longer.

“I’m going to be coming to see you in summer, Monty!” Neville cheered, nudging Monty on his lap much to the cat’s displeasure. Stanley would like Neville quite a bit, Olivia thought. The pair’s conversation continued on. They chatted mostly about Neville’s homework that was laid out on the workbench and Olivia’s excitement about the Ilvermorny specimens being delivered. Mona and Abigail moved closer to them and would chime into the conversations at points – Mona mostly just wanted to interrogate Neville as he was their only new member.

The calm and convivial atmosphere of Greenhouse 3 was one that Olivia adored beyond much else in Hogwarts. Of course, the Ravenclaw common room was lovely – it was essentially her living room for most of the year. But, it lacked the surprising cosiness that the Herbology club had under the bright lantern light that bounced off the glass walls. Monty soon returned to his owner and found his new resting place in the crook of her arm as she attempted to sketch out an Oclamire diagram for Neville – George was a lot better at that than she was. She almost found herself wishing he was there.

The large glass door to the greenhouse opened followed by a clatter and a small huff that masked a curse word. Professor Sprout marched into the room full of her students with a bounce in her step and a flush on her round face. Behind her, was Rubeus Hagrid, the impressively large Hogwarts’ gamekeeper. In his large arms were a variety of wooden cases that were clearly sealed tightly. “Good to see you all working away before dinner!” Professor Sprout said, wiping sweat from her forehead with her robe sleeve. “The Ilvermorny delivery was a tad late but Hagrid, lovely lad he is, brought them here for you all.” A chorus of “thank you’s” and a small clap from Olivia sounded through the room and Hagrid could not hide a small blush dusting his big cheeks.

“You lot are gettin’ the _fun_ fun stuff, I tell ya.” Hagrid laughed, placing down the wooden case and emptying the large sack that was on his back. Olivia’s eyes lit up as she watched vials of various type of sap, packets of dried plants, and a variety of small boxes containing seeds, roots and the odd fungi or herb. All of these new materials were not native to Britain, whether they were magical or not. Attention was turned to the sealed case, it was air tight from what Olivia could tell and she could not imagine what was inside it to warrant such security.

“Everyone please stand back from the case. This is the herbalist cream of the crop, as it were.” Professor Sprout said. She and Hagrid took a few steps back themselves and slipped on heavy, dragon hide gloves. Olivia and Mona were trying to peer over their professor’s shoulder to get the first glimpse of the mysterious specimen and Oisean could not help but snigger at the short girls. Quickly, the sealing charm was broken on the case and the lid was picked up by Hagrid. Inside was several bunches of a type of weed. It had pointy leaves that protruded from its stem and bulbous buds coming from its top. Professor Sprout made particularly quick work of potting up a few of the weeds and they soon were standing tall in a large clay pot. “Does anyone know what type of weed this is?” Professor Sprout asked. Mona’s hand shot up immediately, “Miss Ochiyo?”

“That’s ragweed, Professor. Of the magical variety, I presume?” Mona replied, still trying to get a better look at the flowering weed. Ragweed was a plant that Olivia was familiar with and, therefore, she immediately knew that they would all have to be extra careful around that specimen. The weed was native in the Americas, it was a highly invasive species and it’s pollen was a notorious allergy trigger for humans. Olivia could only imagine what chaos a magical strain of the plant could cause on some unlucky wizard or witch’s nose.

“Correct, Miss Ochiyo! I imagine this goes without saying but I expect you all to be extra cautious when studying this specimen. Madame Pomfrey has already warned me that she will show no sympathy to any runny noses.” Their professor could not help but chuckle. She knew her students well and knew that they would respect the plant and thus it would respect them. The threat of Madame Pomfrey did, however, communicate a very real message that they would be on their own if they developed allergies due to carelessness. Honestly, Olivia just did not to have to give Scott any satisfaction of having to look after her in the Hospital Wing. He would never let her live it down. Each of the students were given quite the fright when Hagrid let out a mighty sneeze that was followed by a snigger.

“Only jokin’, couldn’t help m’self.” The gamekeeper chuckled. “Come ‘round, all of ya. This weed, here, can do some pretty nasty damage.” Hagrid added. He seemed to be extremely excited about the new, somewhat dangerous weeds.

“Hagrid? Ease up on traumatising the children, yeah?” Professor Sprout quipped, with a small chuckle. The Herbology professor and the gamekeeper seemed to have quite the warm friendship.

Hagrid and Professor Sprout continued to move around the greenhouse, sorting out the ragweed. Olivia and Oisean offered to help with the potting process but both staff members shot them a hard “no”. As it turned out, magical ragweed had significantly more potent pollen as a consequence of its enhanced medicinal uses.

Hagrid stayed in the greenhouse after Professor Sprout left to attend a head of house meeting. While it was known that the gamekeeper had a fondness for dangerous magical creature, he also loved gardening. Hagrid had years of experience with strange plants and plenty of funny stories – more than a few involving The Whomping Willow and trees of a similar nature. Olivia found herself hanging on Hagrid’s every word. She had never had the chance to have a proper conversation with the half-giant but goodness, was he an interesting fella.

“So, you’re the one who looks after the Whomping Willow?” Olivia asked excitedly. The aggressive tree was so fascinating to her but she had seen more than a few birds get battered by branches.

“O’ course. One o’ my funnest jobs, honestly.” Hagrid replied. “Plenty bumps an’ bruises, though. What’s that yer workin’ on?” Hagrid gestured to the small notebook Olivia was scribbling in.

“I’m taking notes on the ragweed. It’s nice to get so close to one without getting hay fever. Neville helped me get some pollen in a vial too.” Olivia grinned up at Hagrid. She was jotting down the differences she recognised between the magical and non-magical strains of the weed. The main differences appeared to be the leaf sizes and seed production. The magical weed had already dropped several seeds and quite a bit of pollen. Thankfully, the weeds were under a shield charm that kept all the allergens contained.

“Tha’ whole notebook is jus’ Herbology? Blimey, tha’s brilliant.” Hagrid enthused. Olivia’s green eyes lit up as Hagrid flicked through her second-hand, red leather notebook. Stanley had gifted it to her on her twelfth birthday and Olivia immediately dedicated it to being her ‘plant-y book’, as she put it. “Ya even got a few notes on Bowtruckles. Ya ever seen one of the wee critters outside o’ class?”

“Nah, I don’t live near any woods at home so – they’re really cute though.” Olivia said excitedly. Bowtruckle study was part of fifth year Care of Magical Creatures from what Mona had said and Olivia was very much looking forward to working with the little leafy, tree beings. Olivia and Hagrid continued to chat until he glanced at the wall clock and noticed that it was nearly six o’clock – time to head to the Great Hall for dinner. The club members busied themselves to make sure they cleared up the greenhouse properly – Claire was still in charge of scrubbing all of the tools and she scowled at Olivia when she offered to help. Mona and Abigail were the first to leave since they were prefects and had to dash to dinner to avoid the wrath of Head Boy and/or Head Girl. Oisean nodded at everyone and waved goodbye before slinked out of the greenhouse. The sandy haired boy was quite the testament to not every Slytherin being a slimy git, like Pucey. Olivia grabbed Neville’s robe sleeve and started to walk him back to the castle, she continued to ramble on about her allotment plot.

Once they reached the Great Hall, Olivia walked with Neville towards the Gryffindor table – she may as well greet her other friends before heading over to Preet and Davies. The Weasley family, Lee, Scott and a few first years were all huddled over some glazed ham. Ron was the first to notice the third and first-year duo, clad in slightly dirtied robes and sniggering together. “Neville? Since when did you have mates?” Ron asked, he was rather confused.

“Ron, shut your face. Be nice.” Olivia snapped. “Me and Neville are in Herbology club together and we were having a lovely chat. Right?” She playful punched Neville’s arm and his small toothy grin made an appearance. The older girl quickly dropped off Neville, having him sit beside a rather preppy girl a dark brown complexion and black, bushy curls. “See you kids later!” she waved to the group of first years. Ron waved at her subtly and she could not help but smile. He seemed to be getting closer with Harry Potter, too, and Olivia was very thankful. Before she skipped over to Preet, who was waving at her across the Hall, she had to annoy Scott and the other boys. Her small, calloused hands ruffled in Scott and George’s hair and the two boys were given the frights of their lives.

“SHIT, WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!” Scott cursed, swatting at a cackling Olivia. George quickly joined in, trying to jab at her with his cutlery that was dripping in gravy.

“Mr Reeves! Language!” Professor McGonagall glared as she walked by the third years.

“Sorry, Professor.” Scott blushed and turned back to his dinner, giving Olivia one last shove as she continued to dodge George’s fork.

“OLIVIA! HURRY YOUR BUTT UP!” Preet bellowed across the Hall. Olivia’s face morphed in fear and she quickly jogged towards the Ravenclaw table. Preet would definitely start pelting her with roast potatoes if she did not, indeed, hurry her butt up. 


End file.
